The Princess and Me
by kpgleek13
Summary: AU. Brittany Pierce, a focused and struggling Dance student in NYU, meets Rosario Cruz, a wealthy and snobbish exchange student from Spain. They immediately clash and become enemies at first sight. However, as they grow closer together, Brittany discovers Rosario's deepest secret that could threaten to end not only their flourishing romance but also the future of a whole country.
1. Chapter 1

**Due to incessant public demand to post this fic again, I'm finally bringing it back from the dead. Here you go, folks! Thanks to those who sent me their copy of this fic!**

 **Since I enjoyed putting my own spin on Romantically Speaking, I've decided to do my own spin of 'The Prince and Me', starring Julia Stiles. Brittana style, of course. I'm just borrowing the major premise and a few details but other than that, it's my own version of the story. No Quinn in this fic for a change, btw.**

 **I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING. ENJOY!**

* * *

Turn. Step back. Pirouette. Bow.

Brittany Pierce sighs deeply after executing what must have been her hundredth time of doing the same routine. She wipes the sweat off her eyebrows and heads for her water container to drink as much as she can. Just a little more, she thinks. Only a year left and she'll finally graduate with a degree in Dance from NYU Tisch School of the Arts.

Brittany walks over to the nearby window overlooking Manhattan and ponder what beholds her fate. It's a rough world out there and she's in competition with thousands of hopefuls who'd want to make it into the glamorous professional dancing scene of New York. For someone who came from a small town in Georgia and raised in a farm with a low-wage income, making rent and providing for herself is at the top of her list. Don't even get her started on how she's holding a death grip on her scholarship at that. If only she had a dollar to spare, she wouldn't have to work at least two jobs around her class schedule just to make ends meet. If only she were a princess, she'd never had to worry about these things.

She takes a deep breath and watches as the people of New York hustle and bustle in the streets. She needs to practice until everything is perfect, until her ankles give in just so she'd at least stand out from the pack of hungry wolves. She just needs to maintain her high grades, get her minors done, and create world-class routines that would satisfy her demanding and perfectionist professors. All she has to do is be in control of everything then hit it out of the park with her routines and auditions and hopefully, she'll be inducted and taken in by the dance company of her dreams.

She takes one last swig from her water bottle and puts it down to prepare for one last go in perfecting her routine.

 _Just a little more, Britt. Just a little more,_ she thinks.

* * *

Push. Glide. Kick. Breathe.

The late afternoon breeze and cold waters of the lake doesn't faze Santana in the slightest bit as she goes for her tenth lap in the past hour. The only sound she could hear is the splashing of the water and the pace of her breathing. It's moments like this that she craves for, moments like this that she'd wish not to end, moments of being alone that could only be attained rarely in her life.

Upon finally reaching a huge rock that purposefully holds up a bridge, she takes a moment to catch up on her breathing just in time for the sun to fully set in her line of vision. It's her favorite time of the day, or rather, night. It signifies the nearing end of a never-ending day of fulfilling responsibilities, relentlessly doing what other people asks of her, and moreover, the end of pretending to be someone she's not. Just a little more, she thinks.

She sighs deeply at the never-ending thoughts clouding her mind when the sound of a car's roaring engine registers in her ears. She glances behind her and notices a black Rolls Royce slowly trekking the pavement leading towards the lake. Knowing exactly who it is, she hesitantly swims back to the shoreline. Briefly, she emerges from the waters dressed in a one-piece swimsuit and walks towards Prince, a black hair coat Thoroughbred horse with a brown tack, her personal horse given to her as a gift when she was only seven. She greets the horse by gleefully petting his hair then dries herself off with the towel draped by the saddle while waiting for the car to finally reach her spot.

"I was actually expecting for you to find me much earlier." Santana exclaims with a slight grin when a man, dressed formally in a suit with a Hippo brooch and his hair slicked back, emerges from the driver's seat.

"I would have if I started my adventures here, the lake two miles from the Palace, rather than the park on the other side of town and the other lake you frequent to at the farther end." He replies with a bored tone as he grabs the towel from the brunette's hands. "But then again, you wouldn't make my job easier even if you wanted to."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Kurt." Santana retorts with a smirk, putting on loose sweatpants and an oversized gray hoodie. "So, how angry are they this time?"

"Let's see…" Kurt trails off and pretends to think about it as he holds the backseat door open. "It's already 6:45pm and the dinner party is due to start in fifteen minutes. Of course, we shouldn't disregard the fact that everyone is now dressed and situated at the waiting room while you are neither ready nor there."

" _Dios mio_. You make it sound more boring than it already is, Hummel. It's a bunch of boring, old people smooching off me and exaggerating their boring accomplishments. Did I mention boring?"

"Not quite enough for your taste, I think."

"I'm really glad I have you around to deliver such groundbreaking, exciting things like this to me." She replies sarcastically.

"Well, if you don't get in, there will be no one 'to have around'." Kurt flashes her a warning look by motioning to the open door, something the latter brushes off.

"What if I don't want to?" Santana teases with a smirk.

"Then let me just take off my shoes and I'll swim towards the deepest part of the lake. Probably recite a Shakespeare sonnet as I wait to drown."

Santana laughs at the statement, still ignoring Kurt's plea to enter the car. She gets on the horse's saddle instead and grab the reins to motion the horse to face the other side, throwing Kurt a huge smirk.

"Race you!" She declares with a wink before hastily going off.

* * *

Within a few minutes, Santana arrives at her destination with Kurt trailing closely behind. She doesn't even get a few seconds to bid her horse goodbye when she is quickly ushered to prepare by the tons of familiar faces she's always surrounded with in times like this.

Momentarily, Santana finally emerges from the dressing room, in a bit of a daze, dressed in a long-sleeved formal dark green laced dress that stops a few inches above the ground, dark green heels, her dark brown hair laid down but slightly curled at the ends, and light makeup to highlight her features.

"We're already 10 minutes late. Where is she, Ricardo? She's always late!" Maribel, Santana's mother, angrily whispers while pacing back and forth.

"I'm here!" Santana declares just as she enters the waiting room where her family is situated, her parents with obvious displeased faces while her younger brother is relaxing by the sofa playing with his phone.

Her father stands up from his seat and shakes his head upon seeing her. "Where have you been, Santana?"

"Around." She answers in a dismissive tone before being approached by two women who hurriedly makes sure that she's ready to go while another woman puts a necklace from behind her.

"This is getting out of hand! You should know better, Mija-" Maribel trails off with the same irate tone when Santana cuts her off.

"Please. I'm here now, Mother." She mumbles and earns a hard glare from both of her parents who promptly dismisses her by taking their positions in line.

"Santana!" Diego, her 12-year old brother with black hair and brown eyes, dressed in his formal red military guard attire comes running to the brunette and hugs her tightly.

"Diego, you look dashing! Ready to go?" Santana exclaims with a huge smile, placing a kiss on her brother's forehead. Diego nods with a grin and excitedly stands beside his sister on her left.

"Uhmm… Your-" A small woman catches Santana's attention on her right by holding up the most important piece of headgear to complete her attire. Santana doesn't speak and only motions for the woman to put it on her without any hesitation.

Santana takes another deep breath this time as she and Diego take to their assigned positions a few feet behind their parents, giving her brother a smile in the process. Within a few seconds, three banging sounds go off and the tall oak doors open to unveil a short corridor leading to a wide white staircase with presumably dozens of VIP at the bottom waiting for them to descend.

Another day of endless conversations. Another day of hiding her true self. Another day of taking on a role she sometimes wished she never had.

"His Majesty, the King. Her Majesty, the Queen. His Royal Highness, Prince Diego…" The loud voice announces.

"Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess." The voice adds just in time for Santana to assume her role as she emerges from the room.

* * *

"Hey, Britt!" Mercedes, Brittany's roommate, greets her from the living room of their apartment in Bushwick.

"Hi." Brittany mutters with her forehead creased together as she shuts the door behind her.

"Ooh… Rough day?"

"Let's see… I was at the dance studio the whole morning to teach two classes and practice a few of my own routines. Then I went straight to the café just in time to cover the lunch crowd and do my 10-hour shift because as it turns out, we're short of two people who called in sick at the last minute." Brittany pauses. "What else? Oh, an 80-year old woman asked me to return her cappuccino thrice because apparently, scalding lava levels of heat isn't hot enough. Someone smashed a glass that I had to take care of in the middle of our rush hour. There's also that part where at least three tables with egotistical men in them kept on bugging me to come back to their table for the most mundane things and asked for my number incessantly. And oh, I was shouted at least twice tonight for reasons that were out of my control!"

Mercedes shakes her head in disbelief. "And that would be a yes."

Brittany relaxes her back against the sofa and takes a deep breath. "Argh! I'm so stressed out, Cedes. I just want classes to start already so I can go back to my work-rehearse-sleep routine. I need to let loose or maybe sleep for at least a day, you know."

"Maybe you just need to get laid?"

Brittany gives her friend a look then playfully rolls her eyes. "Maybe. But nope. I gotta make the bucks and I have to prepare for the assignment on my first day next week then-"

"Okay, okay! That's it!" Mercedes exclaims, throwing her hands up in emphasis. "We are going out tonight, okay? You will drink and we're going to take at least five shots each!"

"No, I ca-"

"It's on us and I won't take no for an answer, Britt. Now, go get ready while I call all the other girls. Scram!" Mercedes adds and pushes the blonde to her room.

* * *

"Artie proposed to me last night and I said 'yes'!" Tina exclaims while holding out her hand for everyone, earning collaborative cheers from her friends in the table.

"Oh gosh! Congratulations!" Mercedes exclaims.

"This is great! I'll get us some shots!" Sugar excitedly chimes in and scurries away.

"Yeah, that's wonderful!" Brittany declares with a wide grin followed by a subtle sigh.

She's known her friends ever since she moved to New York three years ago. They all hit it off instantly even if they're pursuing different courses in NYU and now, it's a little bittersweet that everyone's growing up and they're all almost about to graduate. Brittany found roommates in her friends with Tina only moving out a few months ago while Sugar has her own apartment. They've become her family over the years and she can't be anymore thankful for them. An engagement news like this, no matter how bittersweet, is something to celebrate indeed.

It's just that, sometimes, when Brittany's alone at night after a long, hard day, she thinks about the future and the inevitable concern that comes along with it. Maybe she's just being too obsessive about the whole thing by wanting it to be perfect and for everything to go according to her plan. Oh, and her romantic life. It has been a while since she's gotten close to someone in that way.

"Alright. I've got twenty Jello shots coming right up and a bottle of Grey Goose and Patrón to go with it. I'm paying so order anything and everything you want. We're gonna get thrashed, bitches!" Sugar exclaims much to everyone's cheers except Brittany's.

"Oh. No, no, no! I can't, guys. I have an early morning class to give tomorrow at the studio and I've got to finish up my routine for my first class next week."

"Oh, stop it! Seriously, Britt! We're going to celebrate my engagement tonight!" Tina chimes in with a hand to stop Brittany from talking.

"Hey guys!" Ken Tanaka, the owner of the college bar, comes over to bring them their orders. "I heard Tina's engaged, so first round shots are on me. Congratulations!"

"Aww! Thanks, Ken!" Sugar and Tina say in almost unison.

"Oh yeah, Brittany." He calls out and the blonde looks at him with both eyebrows raised. "Do you want back on the rotation like Tina?"

"Yes, definitely!" Brittany utters excitedly. "Can I start Wednesday next week?"

"Nope. Monday." Ken retorts instantly.

"Wednesday?"

"Monday, Brittany."

"Alright, Monday it is. Thanks, Ken!" The blonde nods with a wide grin before Ken excuses himself. "This is good! Now, I'll just have to put my energy into rehearsing and make sure I get in the dance company-"

"You'll get in!" Her friends exclaim in unison with a knowing look at her.

"I don't know, there's still that Spanish Art class I have to get and my last elective this year then-" She whispers to herself.

"Britt, really stop it now! You're talking to yourself again!" Sugar adds with an irate tone.

"Yes, one more talk about school or work and you're taking three consecutive shots!" Mercedes quips with a big smirk on her face.

"No way! I have continuous shifts at the café for the last few days-"

"Oh! That's it! Drink up, Britt!" Tina eagerly cries out, sliding over three Jello shots towards Brittany's way while the others egg her on.

"N-No, I-"

"Alright, it's four shots now! Bargain is ten shots or no dice." Sugar smirks. Brittany sighs and playfully rolls her eyes at them, finally relenting as she grabs the first shot in her hand.

"You guys are such royal pains!" Brittany exclaims in a jest while shaking her head in amusement.

* * *

"Did you read all the prepared research materials?" Ricardo speaks up as he and Santana, who's dressed elegantly in a white dress, make their way towards the royal chambers where they will be opening a Cabinet meeting with the Prime Minister of Spain and a few more members of the party.

" _Si, papá._ "

"Santana, I hope you understand that you are _Princess of Asturias_. The presumptive heir and first in the line of succession to the Spanish Throne. You are the Crown Princess, Mija. Someday you will become the 25th ruler of Spain, a role that you should not be taking lightly."

"I do know that, father."

"The monarchy still requires the participation of the King or Queen in the workings and decisions of the government." Ricardo stops in his tracks to face Santana, a stance she mirrors like Kurt and the security guards behind them. "That is why when I ask you if you are prepared, it is not an insignificant question."

Santana sighs deeply and just nods in recognition. "I'm prepared, _papá."_

Ricardo only gives his daughter a look before continuing his way towards the chambers with the entourage behind them. The tall, wide doors of the chambers open to unveil a room filled with stacks of books from floor to ceiling, housing every book imaginable in them.

"His Majesty, the King." The loud voice that announces their presence wherever they go resonates in the room. Upon hearing it, everyone seated inside the chambers stand up and face the entrance where Ricardo walks in first.

"And Her Royal Highness, _The Princess of Asturias_."

Santana grits her teeth and shares a look with Kurt before walking inside herself, being welcomed by Prime Minister David Martinez, looking like a top model in his suit with the white teeth and natural good looks, himself who holds out a hand for her to shake.

"Prime Minister Martinez." She adds courteously with a forced grin while shaking his hand.

"Your Royal Highness." He echoes back and politely motions for her towards the long table with all the Cabinet members in their suits and dresses waiting for her.

"Ladies, Gentlemen." She greets with a small smile and takes her seat on her father's right, the others following her stead.

"Well then, let's get started." Ricardo exclaims with a slight nod.

* * *

"I don't see why a six percent increase in pay would be damaging at all to the corporations. That's barely making a profit for the union as well." David Martinez reasons out.

"But that's bad faith!" The Secretary of State answers back.

"Look, we'd need to agree on something here so the two sides can finally get together or there would be nothing to negotiate." Martinez adds with a shrug.

"That's blackmail! We can't…" Secretary retorts only for Santana to block out all the voices she's hearing.

This is just boring her to the point of madness. They have been on the same topic for an hour now and it's all going around in circles. This is what she hates the most, being dragged to pointless meetings of clashing egos and one-upping the other all because someone's getting the bigger money. It's stupid. It's supposed to be for the betterment of the people, not these assholes.

She sighs deeply and relaxes against her seat, turning over a new page in the notepad in front of her to start drawing something again. Perhaps a lion this time. She looks up again and watch the two men still fighting about interests and fees when upon subtly rolling her eyes, her gaze focuses on a blonde woman who must be in her early thirties seated across the table on the right side staring back at her.

Santana would usually just ignore stares like that since she's used to it by now but something about the way this blonde woman is eyeing her up suggestively stops her from looking away. The blonde subtly smirks at her which takes her aback but instead of brushing it off, she smiles back as well until she hears Kurt clearing his throat from behind her. She instantly sits up straight at the notion, done so many times by her trusted assistant as if to signal her to become aware of her surroundings. Except this time, it's the sudden awareness that's she's not out.

Being gay.

It's a foreign concept to her. She can't say it out loud for fear that other people might hear it and with her already wicked reputation in the media and press for acting recklessly as a royal with all the indiscretions, you can just imagine what could happen. Her family knows about her being gay and in a way, they've accepted her except for the little fact that she can't come out for fear that it may ruin the royal family. Her family. It keeps Santana awake at night, actually. Imagining just how big of a news and shock it would be to the world to witness the first lesbian Royal Princess come out when, and if, the time comes and even more so, she ascends to the throne and become Queen someday.

Only five people know about her being gay, including her and her assistant, Kurt. Unlike her parents who refuse to bring it up though, Kurt, however, is the only one she can talk to with these kinds of things, at least on the rare occasion that she feels like it. She can't be thankful enough for her assistant's hard work and patience even if she causes him the worst migraines.

Kurt Hummel has been her assistant for almost five years now. Santana was assigned before with a much older assistant but when that failed, Kurt came along at the right time to apply for the job when he moved to Madrid from the US for a change of scenery. One thing that made him stood out was his vibe of treating Santana like a normal person and not one of those people who'd just eat out from the palm of her hands. There's mutual respect between them. He's not afraid to call her out sometimes and he's openly gay as well. Something that makes Santana know that she's not alone in this world, something that comforts her that someone can understand what she's going through somehow.

But like Santana's parents' words, the knowledge of her being a lesbian has to be kept under wraps. Hence, Kurt's clearing his throat when he presumably witnessed the flirty gesture between the princess and the random blonde. Santana knows that she can't create even the lightest of smoke because then, that would lead to a fire. God knows what it's going to burn along the way if she let that happen.

"Santana?" Ricardo calls out and gets Santana off of her thoughts. "I was just asking you about what you think is the best remedy?"

Santana blinks repeatedly just as she feels all eyes are on her. "Uhmm… I-I'm sorry. What topic are we on right now?" She trails off with a panic-stricken face. "I-I was caught up." She adds and hastily closes the notepad in front of her before staring back at the men. The Prime Minister and Secretary of State sigh heavily and share a knowing look while her father only shakes his head.

* * *

"I don't understand why I have to go on those stupid meetings!" Santana angrily exclaims upon entering her personal recreational room in the Palace.

"Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, how do I put it, you're going to be Queen someday?" Kurt replies with a sarcastic tone, grabbing Santana's coat from her body.

"Well, that must be it!" Santana retorts with an eye roll, taking off her heels one by one as she walks towards the sofa in front of the flat screen while Kurt goes on to pick them up and organize everything for her. "Argh! It's so frustrating, Kurt! You're very lucky you are not me. Sometimes I wish I'm not a princess."

"I'll be more than happy to switch sides with you any day or night, Your Highness."

Santana shakes her head in frustration. "I feel so stuck! And after what happened last night and today then all those false reports? Shit. I'm bound to get a speech from my parents later. Maybe I should leave Spain for a while and do something refreshing." She mutters and turns on the television just in time for a well-known US show featuring a gay lawyer to appear on screen.

"Ah. Refreshing. Let's see... We can always go to Ibiza and meet your friends for a week of endless partying. How about Paris to eat those thousands of dollars worth of salad? Or travel to Vegas and drop a few hundred thousand dollars at that newly opened casino?" Kurt rambles on, handing Santana her phone while he's at it.

"No! We've already done those before! I need something new!"

"What kind of 'new' are we particularly leaning to?"

"Somewhere that would make me feel free. A place where I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not. Somewhere that I'll be accepted and possibly even be anonymous to everyone." She mutters with a sad tone that Kurt instantly recognizes.

"Your Highness-"

"I know. You don't have to remind me, Kurt. I'm a princess, I know." Santana snaps back. She rubs her temples and sighs deeply while focusing her eyes on the screen. She watches how the people in the show don't seem to have a care in the world about the character's sexuality and how they actually only care about him as a human being, a friend. It's a thought to behold, that's for sure.

"Hey, Kurt. Have you ever been to New York?"

"I believe once or twice before, Princess."

Her eyes glance at a fictional New York city as the backdrop of the show and thinks that the place is nothing but perfect. She'd never been there but as far as she can recall with the countless stories her friends have told her over the years, the people of New York are rude, ignorant, and just generally apathetic. But the thing is, they don't care whether you're straight or not. They don't judge you for being who you are. The city is brimming with people of different walks of life and that's the best part about it.

"Huh." Santana nods and subtly smiles to herself. Maybe that's what she needs. That's exactly what she needs.

* * *

"New York?" Maribel exclaims with a questioning look directed at Santana. "You want to stay in New York?"

"Yes!" Santana happily utters. She glances around the library where only she, Kurt, Diego, and her parents are all situated before taking a sip of her tea from the coffee table.

"And why there, Mija?" Ricardo chimes in before coughing loudly and violently, quickly motioning for a glass of water from Santana.

" _Papá,_ are you alright?" Santana worriedly comes to her father's side in a hurry. Ricardo waves a hand in disregard after drinking enough water.

" _Si._ The tea must have irritated my throat. Don't worry about me." He utters with a small smile and motions for Santana to continue. The brunette hesitantly nods and goes back to her seat.

"Because I've never really spent that much time in North America and I'd rather go to the heart of the country where I can meet ordinary citizens." Santana pauses. "It's perfect. I need some time away from all the media scandals about me and New York is a place where no one would even recognize me in the slightest. People wouldn't care who I am."

"I'm going to miss you, Santana." Diego voices out from the lounge seat beside her with a slight pout.

"I'll miss you too, Diego." Santana chuckles and ruffles his hair in the process.

"And what exactly are you going to do in New York?" Ricardo chimes in with an unsure look.

"I could study again for the meantime. I heard that New York University's Tisch School of the Arts has an interesting curriculum in my field of choice and a wide variety of extracurricular activities. It's an institution and getting a double degree in exchange for not getting into trouble is a good deal any day for me."

"This is outrageous, Santana!" Maribel quips with a look of disbelief.

"Why not, Mother? I see this as an opportunity to branch out."

"Oh, Mija, please." Maribel sighs deeply, making Santana frown, as she takes out a few newspapers with Santana's face in the headlines, each and everyone showcasing a certain indiscretion. "This is just one in a series of your escapades. Have you seen these?"

Santana grits her teeth. "I-I have but-"

"You want us to let you go to New York, a trip that we will be paying for, in exchange for all these indiscretions? It's all something we finance which so far has inevitably ended up with you in some tabloid, embarrassing us then forcing you to hide in the Palace again until you convince us you have to go and find yourself yet again." Maribel pauses and holds up a few ones. "Incessant partying. Sudden absences from your responsibilities. Getting drunk to the point of unconsciousness. Womanizing ways." Maribel scoffs.

"If I'm such an embarrassment then just cut me off." Santana mutters with a hard tone, earning a glare from her mother. "I don't care if you do. I want to go and I'm going."

"You should let Santana go, Mami. I can always cover for her." Diego interjects, throwing Santana a knowing glance.

"Not now, Diego!" Maribel warns him then glares back at Santana. "What is it that you really want with your life, Santana? _Dios mio, por favor!_ Tell us!"

"I just want to feel like a normal human being for once, Mother! I want to fall in love, not be followed by cameras every single minute of my life, and maybe have real friends who would still care for me even if I'm not a royal! I just want to be free and not hide who I truly am even for just a day in a place where I'll be embraced for being different!" Santana furiously sneers, catching everyone in the room aback. "You have no idea how hard it is to go about my life trying to live a lie like this. You and I both know that half of what the media writes isn't even true. They just want to cook up something! Do you really believe that crap about me cozying to those men in the slightest even if you know the truth about me?"

"Santana-" Ricardo trails off sympathetically but gets cut off by Santana.

"No! I'm so done with this!" Santana glares back at her Mother. "You said that you accept me for who I am but clearly you don't! All you care about is your stupid reputations and what the royal family's image is! I'm gay and it's about time you accept it!" Santana seethes and starts to walk away. "I don't need your help at all. I require neither your permission nor your money. I'm going to New York and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

"Mija-" Maribel exclaims.

"I will do this on my own, Mother!" Santana shouts back, shutting the door behind her in the process.

"You shouldn't be too hard on her." Diego frowns at them. He gets up from his seat and follows after Santana.

Ricardo and Maribel share a guilty look, almost sighing deeply at the same time. "Let her go. Santana's right, we don't know how she feels. Maybe she needs this for herself." Ricardo voices out.

Maribel breathes deeply and shakes her head in disbelief prior to speaking up. "Kurt?" The latter hurriedly walk towards her in recognition. "Go with Santana and keep an eye on our daughter. I worry about her."

"M-Me, Your Majesty? But I don't think I'm fit to look after the Princess when there are others who-"

Maribel only sighs and gives Kurt a look, something he immediately relents to out of fear or respect for the Queen by bowing his head down in compliance.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will arrange for our departure immediately."

* * *

 **A/N: I'm going to write this on the fly since I wasn't intending on posting it again. So, please bear with me.** **I'll most likely update every Saturday too.**

 **For questions, particularly the Guest reviewers, you can address them on my tumblr (kpgleek13*tumblr*com) so I can directly answer everything you wish to know :)**


	2. Chapter 2

"Is it just me or is it a bit too noisy in here?" Santana curiously asks Kurt while looking outside the car window, watching the buildings of Manhattan pass by before her eyes.

Even with her parents' objections, Santana still stood firm and continued with her plans without their support or blessing. And so, after making all the necessary arrangements for their stay in New York and an extremely confidential talk with the president of NYU himself, they finally made their way to the Big Apple. Much to everyone's disappointment though and all the preparations regarding the nature of Santana's stay and security in the city, she insisted on not having any at all under the guise that it would blow her 'cover'. Moreover, she decided to stay in the dorms instead of opting for a luxury apartment or townhouse.

Aside from enrolling in her preferred course and housing plans, she also went the extra mile by having Kurt enroll himself in his own choice of program, much to the latter's excitement and horror. Now, seeing that it's Monday and both of their classes due to start tomorrow, they are both in the process of ironing out the last few details of their adventure before arriving at their destination.

"You're not mistaken, Princess. My eardrums are currently adjusting to the maddening screams of every other person on the street." Kurt replies.

"Not quite the serene sounds of Madrid, huh?" Santana chuckles. "I'm so excited! I've never been to New York before. I don't even know why they call it 'Big Apple'."

"Because it's red and we could die anytime due to the unfortunate circumstance of getting mugged?"

"Very funny, Kurt."

"That would be so if I was actually kidding, Your Highness."

Santana shakes her head amusedly and positions her whole body to face Kurt on her left. "Alright. We have to do something about that."

"The noise? You may be the future Queen of Spain but I don't think those future powers of yours would actually become real-life magic. We can ask Madonna's help, perhaps?"

Santana rolls her eyes and flashes Kurt a look. "No. I was talking about you calling me 'Your Highness' or any other name that may blow our cover."

Kurt's eyes widen at the statement. "Wait. 'Our cover'?"

"Unless you've gone deaf due to the 'maddening screams' then yes, that's what I said."

"The Queen only asked me to come with you, not _be with you_ , Your Highness."

"Don't flatter yourself, Kurt." Santana playfully raises an eyebrow at him. "But no, it's not how you think it is. I actually devised a way to go around that so everyone would think that we're just ordinary citizens."

"Pray tell."

Santana grins widely, excitedly fishing out something from her purse. "Okay. Here it is." She grabs two I.D.'s and hands both of them to Kurt who inspects the first one carefully.

"'Rosario Cruz'?" He utters in a surprised tone while looking at the brunette in disbelief.

"Yes! I got it from Rosario Dawson when we watched 'Rent' that one time and Penelope Cruz. Because you know, she's Spanish, stunning, and a great actress."

"Huh." Kurt feigns a smile. "I didn't need that explanation but what I do need to know is how, when, and where you got these fake I.D.'s, Princess. This is illegal!"

"No, I suppose they're not." Santana remarks sarcastically.

"Your Highness, you just broke the law under your father's name. You did something illegal in the name of the King." Kurt chuckles. "Why, if that's not the most ironic and interesting thing I've heard then consider me unmarked for life."

"You know, I think I'm starting to regret choosing you as my assistant."

"That's a few years too late for you to be thinking about. We've already gone through so much hardship, problems, fights, and at one point thought that someone died at a party-"

"Okay. Stop." Santana rolls her eyes and sighs deeply. "Now, go check out yours." She motions to the other I.D. with Kurt still chuckling, that is until his eyes focus on the particular card.

"'Brad McDuffin'?!" Kurt exclaims in shock. "'Brad McDuffin'?! Is this a joke?"

"I'm rolling on the floor laughing, as you can see."

"Princess, the name alone makes it seem like I'm some 50-year old, beer-bellied alcoholic lounging around in my boxers in some worn-down apartment with a cocaine addiction and fantasies of being a mobster on the side." Kurt utters exasperatedly. "I sound like a McDonald's happy meal, for crying out loud."

Santana laughs out loud, relaxing against her seat. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad. If you must know, I got it from 'Brad Pitt' and a little tweaking of 'Doc McStuffins'."

"Well, with Doc McStuffins in hand, that cocaine addiction is now legit." Kurt rolls his eyes. "Why do we have to change names? My name is fantastic and so is yours."

"And it's also an obvious way to get caught. This trip is all about being invisible. We can't let them be too curious about us. At least with such a cover, we'd get to roam around freely."

"And 'Brad McDuffin' would definitely make it inconspicuous." Kurt speaks. "But what exactly is our cover story? We're both from Spain and friends who just so happened to study in a prestigious school?"

"Yes but," Santana taps her chin while thinking about it. "We're best friends. You're British or Norwegian, depending on what you want, and you moved to Spain when you were younger then we became the best of friends. I'm Spanish, of course. And we're here to pursue our dreams on a temporary basis since we're exchange students."

"I think we just lowkey offended a few nations with that, Your Highness." Kurt raises an eyebrow. "I'm okay with our cover story but can we scratch the British or Norwegian part? I won't be able to pull that off 24/7. Perhaps I'm just a random bloke who moved with my family to Spain when I was younger. We met in middle school and found out we're neighbors. BFF galore."

"I like it. We'll go with that." Santana nods. "Oh. Is my accent that heavy? Do I sound like Penelope Cruz herself? I know I sound wonderful and not that I care at all but I don't intend to be made fun of by stupid university kids who think it's funny to mock accents as a party trick."

"No, Your Highness. Your accent is beautiful and anyone may very well mistake that you've lived here your entire life thanks to my training you to be fluent in English, of course."

"That and other things, Kurt. I'm sure one way or another you've corrupted me."

"I think it's the other way around, Princess." Kurt chuckles before getting a slap on the arm from Santana. "Ow! What did I do?"

"I told you. No more 'Princess', 'Your Highness', or anything like that. From now on, you call me by my cover name. Rosario or Rosa would be just fine."

"Oh, Rosa. The National Intelligence Center would be proud of you." Kurt remarks with a fake smile. "How about Rose instead? We could totally change this and rename me as 'Jack'."

"Our cover will sink down the depths of the ocean along with that, pun intended." She shakes her head in disbelief. "Let's stick with what we came up for now, okay? The name 'Brad' suits you. Maybe you'll find a man of good repute in the city. Or ill repute, depending on your taste."

"I'm sure that somewhere along the way we've crossed a blurred line of decency. Or is this how you wrote Rosa's personality?"

"Let's go with the latter." Santana winks at him. "Come on, Kurt. I'm not kidding about the 'best friends' part in the story. You really are my best friend. So, stop being so polite with me in public. Don't treat me like a princess and let's act normal. If you really must talk to me in that way, just address me as Santana when we're alone. No grand names."

"I'm touched and do feel the same sentiment. Will you be as rarely sweet and nice as this to everyone for the remainder of our stay?"

"Of course not." Santana scoffs. "To you, yes. But don't expect me to become close peers with a commoner around here."

"And I almost believed you changed colors right before my eyes." Kurt laughs heartily, something Santana joins in.

They settle in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking out the window and admiring the bustling streets of Manhattan. Shortly, the limo slowly pulls over towards the side when they finally arrive at their destination, the driver alighting from the car to take care of their luggage.

"One last thing..." Kurt trails off with an uneasy look at Santana. "I must ask this but what about the _other_ thing?"

"What other thing?"

"About you, you know… Batting for the other team, as they put it." He trails off with a knowing look, subtly motioning to Santana. "Isn't that why we're here?"

Santana sighs deeply then smiles genuinely at the notion that nothing's going to hold her back anymore. At least for now. "No secrets anymore, Kurt. I don't need to shout it from the rooftops but I won't hide it either. New York is all about embracing your true self and that's what we'll do. Who knows? Maybe I'll fall in love too." She adds with a dopey grin on her face.

Instead of waiting for the car door to be opened for her like always, she takes the initiative and opens it herself to alight from the vehicle. She doesn't miss the surprise on Kurt's face and also that of a blonde woman walking by the sidewalk whom she almost hits with the door. Blondie only flashes her a killer stare then holds her coat closer to her body as she walks away muttering expletives to herself.

Santana disregards the encounter and proceeds to ignore the whole thing by rolling her eyes then shutting the door behind her. _Commoners,_ Santana thinks. She grabs her bags from the back compartment, surprising Kurt even more, and takes a second to survey the New York scene before her.

People not giving a damn about who she is. People just passing by the sidewalks and not taking pictures of her or greeting her constantly. People not knowing at all who she is by thinking that she's just one of them. She feels so liberated. So light. So unrestrained. She sighs deeply one last time and feels a surge of contentment wash over her for the first time in her life.

 _So, this is what it feels like to be free,_ Santana thinks.

* * *

"I love my life. I love my life." Brittany mutters repeatedly to herself upon arriving in Ken's college bar a few blocks down her school building.

It's only her first day back and the stress is already getting to her. Lack of sleep, a bit of hunger, and probably nutrition deficiency with all the times she'd been working instead of taking a bite. Today has been a little worse than the last few days though. Rehearsing her routine as early as 6am, the one she'd been preparing for weeks to show to her professors, only to be told much later on that she'll have to work harder and better than that if she wants a shot at anything or to simply graduate. Further, her professors said that the routine won't pass the initial screening for her major class and she'll have to make another one within the next week if she doesn't want to lose the coveted slot to another desperate student. In short, she'd already been told that she's not good enough even before lunch. During her first day back.

And so, caught up with a few classes and some of her friends' story of their vacations from far away, she went home for a while to rest or at least sleep for an hour or two before she's due to go to work. And on her way, she was almost killed by a flinging car door who almost hit her in the face, the rude woman who did so not having a care in the world. Argh. Sometimes, if not most of the time, she hates New York.

"Ah. The slogan of every struggling student in Manhattan." Tina remarks upon approaching her friend. "What's got you all in a bad mood?"

"Nothing. Just the rude people of New York. Difficult professors. Being broke. Yeah, that's about it for now."

"A typical day for us then?"

"I suppose so." Brittany sighs, setting aside her things and grabbing the nearby apron. "Anyway, What's new? No one fought or died yet? Thrown up, maybe?"

"Nope. Though with our crowd today and the first day of classes back, all of those are likely to happen. Don't leave the hitting on part. Ken's new hire, Marley, has been trying to fend off everyone for the past two hours."

"I saw." Brittany groans and turns to glance at the brunette from afar. "She's pretty, isn't she?"

"Yeah, I guess. She's got the blue eyes, black hair down to a T. She's really nice too. And single."

"Huh." The blonde mutters to herself, her eyes slowly darting down Marley's legs for some reason. "She's got nice legs. Dance?"

"Voice, actually." Tina utters, handing Brittany a tray to handle the outgoing food in the kitchen. "And wait, are you checking her out?"

"What? No, silly. I was just appreciating her beauty." Brittany chuckles, grabbing a few beers being handed to her by Ken.

"There's nothing wrong if you like ladies, you know. And we're in college, experimenting is fine."

"Believe me, I'll tell you girls when I get there. So far, I'm as straight as a ruler."

Tina shakes her head in amusement as she slowly darts off to serve a table. "Honey, even the hardest of rulers bend nowadays."

* * *

"What is this place? And why does it smell of cheap cologne?" Santana's nose crinkles when Kurt opens the door for her leading to a bar located near their dorm.

"I overheard awhile ago that it's a famous college bar where most of the Tisch students go." Kurt retorts as they survey the crowded place for a space to sit. "I don't know about the cheap cologne but I suppose you're just not used to any perfume cheaper than a few thousand euros."

"Maybe." Santana nods knowingly then points to a newly vacated table. They make their way towards the spot, almost clashing with a few drunk men laughing and suggestively grinning at Santana before scurrying away. "I don't know if I should be honored that it's the first time someone did that to me or I'll be disgusted by how uncouth they are. If this were Madrid, they'd already be on their knees begging for forgiveness."

"Yes, I'm sure." Kurt chuckles and goes on to remove Santana's coat then holds out a chair for her in the process as well, subtly earning a few curious looks from bystanders. "Your High-"

"Kurt, remember what we talked about." She whispers with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yes. Alright then, Santana. I'll call you that since we're alone at the moment." He trails off and sits down himself. "What would you like to drink?"

"Seeing how high-end this place is, a Dom Perignon would suffice. Some butter poached lobster and a medium rare Kobe too?"

"Beer and nuts it is. Maybe wine." Kurt retorts, standing up to go towards the bar but Santana holds him back. Instead, the brunette calls the attention of a nearby waitress who appears to be either Chinese or Korean but nonetheless confused, as she makes her way towards Santana.

"U-Uh…" Asian girl utters looking confused.

Santana smiles slightly and cuts her off before she even gets to speak. _"W_ _ǒ_ _men xīwàng néng y_ _ǒ_ _u li_ _ǎ_ _ng bēi ji_ _ǔ_ _, q_ _ǐ_ _ng. Bìngqiě yě càidān."_

Asian girl looks at Santana like she had just seen a ghost or a dinosaur. Santana stares at her as if waiting for an answer while Kurt blinks a few times to gauge if the situation needs him to butt in.

"I'm Korean." Asian girl finally speaks after a few seconds. "And I didn't understand batshit about what you just said."

"Oh." Santana's eyes widen. "Well, I'm not fluent in it but I'll try. _Wain du jan juseyo_ -" She trails off innocently in Korean only to be cut off by Kurt.

"What she means to say is that we'll have two glasses of wine. Also, if the kitchen is still open, some nachos and burgers, please." He adds with a forced grin.

Asian girl nods hesitantly. "Nachos and burgers, it is. Though you'll have to get the wine yourself from the bar, assuming that we have it here."

"I see. We're new here, so, you know…"

"I can see that." Asian girl smiles. "Where are you guys from?"

"Spain." Santana interjects with a dull tone.

"We're exchange students. Tisch." Kurt adds.

"Oh, cool! We go there too. Most people who come here do anyway. Mine's Drama. What's your major?" She utters excitedly. "I'm Tina, by the way."

"Musical Theatre for me and Dramatic Writing for her." Kurt replies courteously, holding out a hand which she shakes. "I'm Kur-" He starts but thankfully, gets stomped on the feet by Santana who gives him a death stare. "C-Curious about the menu, is what I was trying to say. But my name is Brad. And this is Rosario. It's nice to meet you, Tina."

"Yeah." Santana comments nonchalantly, earning a warning look from Kurt.

"Likewise." Tina grins widely at the both of them. "Anyway, I'll come back with your orders in a while. And don't worry about the person at the bar, her name's Brittany. She's nice if you ask nicely." She adds then proceeds to walk away.

"I don't know about you but what we did back there was called making friends. Something we both need to do since I'm pretty sure we'll make each other go crazy soon. Maybe try to be a little less 'you'?" Kurt whispers with a hard tone.

Santana rolls her eyes and sighs deeply. "Fine. If you say so."

"And we should also do something about the way you speak."

Santana's forehead creases. "What about it? The accent is too heavy, isn't it?"

"No! Like I told you, it's perfectly fine. You sound wonderful. Although I can't say the same thing about the way you talk. As in, your words. Colloquially speaking, you sound like you're from a 50's movies with daring sword fights, dragons, and magic kingdoms. You sound way too formal."

"What? I do not sound formal at all."

"Yes, you do." Kurt laughs. "You talk in such a cultured manner that any drunk person would mistake you as a character written by Jane Austen."

Santana thinks about it for a second before nodding, getting the point of her assistant now. "Alright. What should I do about it then?"

"I can't say exactly but maybe you could downplay the politeness yourself and try to be a little less formal?"

"So, basically, I should be myself without the formal cultured thing?"

"Exactly, yes."

"For a country who argues that they're the best in the world, they pull off a different impression. Or maybe that's just my opinion. Citizens of the United States are so weird." Santana comments wryly.

"You chose to go here, so might as well try to blend in." Kurt mentions. "Alright, I'll get our drinks-

"No, it's okay. I'll get it myself. I want to try your so-called way of speaking normally. Maybe make a new friend too." Santana comments dryly and stands up to walk away, not really letting Kurt object anymore.

* * *

A rare time for them during service would be that few minutes where no one would approach the bar or call them to their table regarding an order or anything remotely related.

That instance is what's Brittany enjoying right now as she pours a few glasses of beer for some customers. However, it proves to be short-lived when someone clears their throat behind her. She sighs but is nonetheless thankful for the few minutes alone.

"Yeah. Just a sec." Brittany utters upon finishing the last glass of beer to be poured.

"Excuse me, barkeep. Can I have two glasses of your finest _vino?"_ A woman's raspy voice, a gorgeous mix of an indistinguishable accent of good English and one that Brittany's not familiar of, exclaims with a sharp tone from behind her.

Brittany's forehead creases at the notion of such a polite and weird statement, slowly turning around until her view focuses on the only person at the bar right now. A beautiful brunette with flawless olive skin, pouty lips, and small frame. She's pretty sure she's seen this girl somewhere before. "I'm sorry, what?"

The brunette squints her eyes at her, as if trying to figure her out. "Ah! I remember you. You were that woman from a while ago who almost hit my limo and rudely stared at me."

 _Oh, that bitch.,_ Brittany thinks. Her eyebrows shoot up at the recognition and the implication of the brunette's words. _Did she just tell me that I was the rude one?_ "T-The what?"

"Well, that would explain why you didn't apologize to me earlier. Seeing that your combination of three words are all you've been saying so far." The brunette smirks. "Brittany, am I right? Your friend Tina told us your name. I'm Rosario Cruz."

"Huh?" Brittany remarks in all her confusion. One, did this Rosario chick just insinuated that she was the rude one? Two, did she just indirectly said that Brittany's illiterate? And three, how in the hell does this woman know Tina and why would they know her name?

Rosario sighs deeply, almost impatiently. "Look, uh… Brubru was it?" She waves her hand in disregard. "I just need the _vino_."

" _Vino?_ What the hell are-"

"Wine." This Rosario utters spitefully with a belittling look at her that takes Brittany aback in the worst possible way. The brunette dismisses it once again. Instead, she fishes out a few bills from her pocket and places them onto the bar platform. "How much is it? Actually, don't answer that. Just bring it to our table. Here's a hundred dollars because you look like you need it. You're welcome." Rosario rambles agitatedly then strolls away, not having a care in the world.

Brittany's mouth opens in shock, trying hard not to follow the woman and lunge at her for being so damn rude and impolite. Who knew that a woman who could very well be a princess with such beauty as that would harness a rotten personality, boorish attitude, and snobby demeanor?

 _Huh._ Brittany sighs deeply and shakes her head dismissively before finding that damn _vino_ then going back to work.

* * *

"I think I just made a friend, Brad." Santana animatedly tells Kurt upon taking a seat in their spot again, noticing that the food they ordered has been served already.

"Are you sure? It looked painful from here." Kurt answers with an unsure tone.

"Nah, it went well. I even gave her a hefty tip seeing that they barely make anything out of this hellhole. Seriously, all she said was 'what'? and didn't even thank me for it. Are manners not taught in American schools?"

Kurt gives her a disbelieving look. "Boy, you are a national treasure."

"Please. I was just being nice."

"We need to work on your concept of 'nice', Rosario. Otherwise we'll be on our way home even before this week ends with all the enemies you'll be making."

"Whatever you say, McDuffin." Santana replies with an amused tone.

They settle in an uncomfortable silence as they enjoy the food. That is until a beautiful brunette waitress walks their way, catching Santana's attention and Kurt's curiosity of her expression.

"Did you just check out the waitress?" He trails off with a grin.

"She's beautiful." Santana replies with her attention still on the woman.

"She is."

It's like reflex for her in some way or maybe it's the way she's been conditioned in the past few years but Santana immediately and embarrassingly looks away from the beautiful waitress to focus on the food in front of her instead.

"What's wrong, Santana?" Kurt whispers worriedly.

She glances up, wondering just that. She realizes just now that in this place, in this country and where she is right now, there is nothing wrong with that. At all. The understanding washes upon her that she could do anything she wants and no one's going to stop her. Kurt's not clearing his throat nor is he giving her a warning look to be aware of her surroundings. Instead, he actually encouraged her in a way.

"Actually, nothing." Santana grins widely. Kurt returns the gesture with their attention back on the brunette waitress.

"Her name's Marley and she's single. Tina filled me in. Are you going to talk to her?"

"I don't know. We don't even know if she likes girls too. How do you even talk to them? Isn't that creepy? She's so beautiful it's intimidating." She rambles nervously, earning a light chuckle from Kurt.

"Just talk to her. Be nice. She looks like she's on her break too so it's a perfect time for a chat. I'll be fine here. Now, go!"

"I'm not really worried about you being alone here but it's just-"

"Go!" Kurt exclaims excitedly while motioning for her to get up. Santana sighs to ease the nervous feeling at first. She hastily stands up then turns in an instant only for her to go eye to eye with a tray carrying two glasses of wine.

"Watch ou-" A woman's warning came a little too late upon Santana violently hitting her nose against the steel tray, one of the glasses hitting the floor after the impact.

"Ow!" Santana cries out, holding on to her nose while trying to maintain her balance.

"Holy sh-" Kurt's voice comes from somewhere around her.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! She came out of nowhere!" The voice, who Santana comes to know is Brittany's from the bar earlier, desperately pleads while motioning for someone to clean the mess on the floor.

"Are you blind?! I was right in front of you! You had one job and you can't even do it right!" Santana furiously remarks.

Brittany's eyes widen just as her whole face reddens in anger, assuming an expression Santana's sure the woman doesn't usually use. "Excuse me?! I said I'm sorry! You were the one who wasn't looking! I didn't purposely hit you with the tray, you bumped into me!"

"Sure. Compensate for your lack of awareness and absence of mind by being so ditzy and clumsy. It's a wonder how you even got your job as a waitress let alone be allowed to have one." Santana scoffs back.

Santana doesn't get to react much after though because within half a second, Brittany grabs the glass of wine resting on the tray and throws it towards her. A streak of red registers before her very eyes followed by the liquid meeting her skin, some splashing into her hair then spilling onto her clothes, just as the wine hits her face in a manner that makes her feel like she's drowning.

"How dare you?!" Santana blurts out, coughing a little. She glances up and sees Brittany looking enraged while still holding the glass of wine as evidence.

Before she could go on a rampage on this mere commoner who had the guts to throw wine in her face – a _crown princess' face_ –, she and Kurt are immediately whisked away by several burly men out of the bar.

"Get away from me!" Santana sneers upon being thrown out into the streets of New York. She looks down on her shirt and sees the heavy damage inflicted on her clothes by the blonde, the sticky and wet hair she has right now, and how funny her face must look with the red hue caused by the wine.

She hears Kurt clear his throat from the side, sporting an expression between mirth and exasperation. "I say that went well for your first night in New York. Welcome to the real world, Your Highness." He whispers in amusement as he leads a helpless Santana back to their dorm room.

* * *

"It was unbelievable! I was so mad that I just went for it! Oh God. She's a whole other level of rude, she deserved it!" Brittany declares in an infuriated manner, relaying the story to Mercedes as they walk together in the hall leading to their respective classrooms.

"Tina told me about it. And girl, if she said those nasty things to you first then mocked you about it, she so deserved it!" Mercedes chimes in with a big grin.

"I know, right? I hope to never see that Rosario bitch ever again." Brittany huffs, stopping in front of a classroom. "Anyway, this is me. Catch you girls later at the bar?"

"You know it." Mercedes exclaims with a smile before disappearing into a corner.

Brittany enters the classroom half-filled with Dance students of differing years. She drops her duffel bag by the corner and settles nearby to stretch her body like the others. This is an elective class as far as she can remember. She was supposed to take it during her freshman year but decided against it so she can concentrate on her majors which paid off well. But seeing that she needs to take at least one elective as a requirement for graduation and that this class is the only one with a few slots available, she just settled for it: Duet Repertory.

Momentarily, the teacher arrives in the room, a flamboyant man in his early 50's with gray hair and sporting a displeased expression. Everyone stops what they're doing and focus their attention towards him.

"Good morning, everyone. This is Duet Repertory. In short, we'll be discussing, executing, and making routines about every dance style under the sun that involves a partner. I'll discuss everything further but before that I would like you all to-" He exclaims in a dramatic manner prior to being cut off by the doors opening to unveil a familiar brunette and a pale young man in tow looking lost and confused while discussing in whispers.

Brittany squints her eyes at the duo in question, making her heart race upon realizing that it's none other than Rosario and her friend. Rosario whom she threw wine to her face in front of the drunk crowd at the bar last night.

"Excuse me?! You're distracting my class!" Professor Fancy-Pants cries out for everyone to hear.

Rosario tells her friend something which ultimately makes him go away, leaving her alone by the doors with everyone's attention on her.

"Apologies, professor. There must have been a slight mix-up with my elective class schedule." She courteously tells the teacher who is taken aback by the politeness.

"Take your seat, Miss-"

"Cruz. Rosario Cruz." The brunette fills in the blanks with a fake smile. Without saying anything else, she turns her attention towards the other students much to Brittany's dread. And just as the blonde fears, Rosario's eyes meet hers with an expression that could only be depicted as that of surprise and slight glee with the wide smirk the brunette's slowly breaking into. More so, it further astonishes Brittany that Rosario walks towards her spot and settles herself beside her with the same amused expression.

Brittany finds herself dazed just by staring at the brunette standing beside her, who approached her, as if nothing happened last night. Rosario looks up quizzically at the class and professor, all of whom still has their attention on her, just in time for Brittany to look away.

"Oh, please proceed." Rosario declares dismissively and waves a hand in disregard to motion the professor, who's bewildered in the very least, to continue with whatever he's saying. Brittany chuckles in delight which the whole class mirrors much to the indifference of the girl beside her.

"As what I was going to say, I'd like you all to greet the person beside you," The teacher trails off. Upon hearing the statement, Brittany absent-mindedly glances at Rosario, who's also looking back at her in a dumbfounded manner, their eyes meeting at the same time. "Congratulations, folks. You have just greeted your permanent dancing partner for the whole semester. Make nice, yes?"

Brittany's eyes widen while Rosario's mouth open widely as if to protest. The blonde breathes deeply through her nose at the notion of spending a whole semester in such close proximity with her most hated person in the world right now.

"Well then…" Rosario trails off with a smirk, making Brittany roll her eyes in disbelief.

What a fun way to start the semester.

* * *

 **x**


	3. Chapter 3

"Class dismissed!" Professor Fancy-Pants exclaims dismissively prior to exiting the room in a haste.

Santana sighs deeply as she gathers her bag from the floor and motions to leave the room where Kurt's waiting outside, only to be stopped by someone shouting and running towards her.

"Rosario! Rosario, wait!" Brittany's voice echoes in the space.

"Santana, that's you." Kurt whispers just enough for her to hear. The brunette absentmindedly glances at her assistant until the realization dawns on her.

"Rosario!" Santana hears Brittany exclaim with a hard tone. She turns to face the blonde whose forehead is creasing. "I've been trying to call for you, can't you hear me?"

"Probably. The wine must have meddled with my ability to hear your voice and yours only. Can I help you?" Santana utters dismissively while handing all her things to Kurt, earning a curious glance from the blonde.

"Look, I know you hate me and I hate you too-"

"Wonderful. Great conversation." Santana scoffs, turning her body and starting to walk away with Kurt following closely behind her.

"No, wait!" Brittany declares, stopping the brunette's tracks upon positioning herself in front of them. "As much as we don't like each other, we have no choice but to work together in this class. This is important to me, okay? I need this class to graduate."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you started throwing wine on people's faces, Brubru." She huffs, purposely emphasizing the wrong name. "And don't you think that before you go lecturing me about your life that I have no interest on whatsoever, you should be giving me your apology for last night first?"

"It's Brittany." The blonde answers with disdain. "I'm not going to apologize to you, Rosario. You were mean and you know it. If anyone here should say sorry, it's you. So, next time you go to class again, make sure you've got all the necessary materials and outfit because I won't tolerate dead weight like you. See you in class." Brittany adds, then walks away without another word.

Santana chuckles amusedly as she watches the girl walk away. "She didn't apologize to me, Kurt. She threw wine on my face, scolded me for doing so, told me that I should apologize, and just ordered me to go to class prepared. How entertaining, don't you think?"

"I fail to see what's entertaining about it. Care to expound?"

"I'm not sure. If we were in Madrid, people won't even dare to look me in the eye lest talk to me. But this Brubru," Santana smirks. "I've never been treated like that, treated like a normal person. It's amusing how people converse around here in the United States, I like it. I hope everyone would treat me just the same."

"God, I hope you're not a masochist." Kurt retorts with a side eye. "Let's go, we both have classes to attend. This time, we'll try to to be nice to people, yes?"

* * *

Brittany has been staring at the picture on her phone for almost a minute now. Her shift is almost done but she's still clueless as hell, trying to find meaning behind the photo while seated on one of the available tables in the not-so-busy bar at the moment. She's looked at it normally, sideways, and even upside down but she still doesn't get it. Moreover, she doesn't get why out of all the humanities courses available, Spanish Art had been the one given to her. Hence, her confusion on trying to find sense with a google image of 'The Farm' as it's aptly named.

"Joan Miró." A raspy voice with a familiar gorgeous accent utters over her shoulder, making her jump in surprise and moving away to give the mystery person a hard look. It's Rosario, who she hasn't seen for a few days now, with a big smirk on her face.

"Joanne what?"

"It's not Joan, like Joanne. It's pronounced as Zu-Wahn Miro. Or WaHn, for some people." Rosario corrects her, rolling her eyes at that. "Joan Miró painted that." She adds, motioning to Brittany's phone much to the latter's surprise. "He regards it as a key work in his career, ultimately expressing the painting as 'a summary of his entire life in the countryside' as well as 'the summary of one period of his work, but all the point of departure for what was to follow'. It purposely denotes all the familiarity that was represented by Miró himself and his motherland, Spain."

"Huh." Brittany answers, a little bewildered at how the brunette spoke. "And you know that how?"

"It might surprise you but someone 'as mean as me' actually loves art." Rosario smiles softly. "And I suppose it's also because I'm Spanish so I'm familiar with their works. The artist of that painting is Spanish as well, like Pablo Picasso, Salvador Dali, Juan Gris, and many more. Why are you staring at it so confused?"

"I-t's for a class I'm taking, not that you need to know." Brittany answers hesitantly, putting her phone away then facing Rosario again. "So, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be banned from this bar?"

"You're suddenly interested about me now?" Rosario quips, taking a seat beside Brittany. "No, we're not banned. I'm not following you, if that's what you're insinuating as well. If you must know, I came from my dorm room in campus along with Brad, my best friend. We wanted to have a pint or two, you see."

"I see. You do know that us talking like this doesn't mean that we're in anyway friends nor do I hate you any less, right?"

"Of course and the feeling is mutual, by the way." Rosario grins devilishly. "To be honest, I'm just waiting for you to stand up so my peer and I can occupy this table. He's over there talking with your friend Tina right now and she let it slip that your work is done for the night. So, goodbye, Brubru." The brunette scathingly remarks, shooing Brittany away with her hands without looking at her.

"There's lots of available tables and you choose where I'm sitting. How nice of you."

"You're very much welcome. But perhaps you would like to throw some wine on my face again to make your point?" Rosario speaks unenthusiastically. "Oh, since you're at it, can you bring us two pints of your finest beer before you go?"

"I'm afraid I must decline. For the barkeep appreciates to be asked herself at the 'ol pub yonder." She utters with a mocking curtsy. Rosario raises an eyebrow and is just about to speak up when Tina and Rosario's friend come strolling towards them.

"Hey, Britt. Guess what?" Tina excitedly exclaims for all of them to hear.

"You just won a million dollars and you're sharing it with us and now we won't have to deal with rude customers?" Brittany instantly replies, gaze trained on Rosario.

"U-Uh… No." Tina awkwardly retorts then grins again while dragging Brittany out of their earshot. "Remember Cedes' birthday party at your place next week? Well, turns out she's classmates with Brad in a class and didn't know how he's involved in the thing last night. Long story short, she invited him and Rosario to come along so they could meet everyone since they don't know a lot of people. Ironic in a way, I know. But isn't it exciting to have new faces around?"

Brittany grits her teeth and dumbly stares at Rosario who's looking around the bar like a lost child from afar. "Just try and stop me, Tina." She declares sarcastically.

* * *

"Why are we here again? Is there not any other bar that we could go to? Somewhere that actually serves fine wine and edible food?" Santana comments in a bored tone, taking a sip of the beer Kurt got for them and making a distasteful face after.

"Santana, if you want to experience the normal life of a college student or just normalcy itself, then this is it. Michelin starred restaurants or thousands of dollars of champagne aren't in the cards for your trip." Kurt replies, raising an eyebrow.

"But this is absolute crap, Kurt. This beer tastes like mud and their wine is as bitter as Brubru the barkeep."

"It's Brittany. Stop calling her Brubru unless you want the wine to be served and thrown on your face again."

"Ugh. Now I'm starting to regret coming here. I should have just chosen somewhere in South America or probably Australia."

"Perhaps." Kurt comments. "By the way, the Queen called earlier to check up on you."

Santana chuckles bitterly, taking a swig of her beer. "What is it now? Another scandalous report that I didn't do? Another embarrassment that I have nothing to do with?"

Kurt only gives her a regretful look. "She actually just called to ask how you are. And to say that she had your allowance wired for this month this morning. Which is to say, an amount that could very well buy you a brand new Ferrari. About five of them, actually."

"And now she cares? I don't need her or my family's money, Kurt."

"I'm afraid you do, Your Highness. Otherwise, you'll have to start looking for something to sustain our living expenses starting the day after tomorrow."

"So I shall. Use the money they wired for me on you, I don't need it. I still stand by what I said about not needing their financing. I'll wait for one of those things that make us money." She waves her hand in disregard.

"You mean a job?" Kurt utters, amused. "I'd normally prevent you to do anything that could make you unbecoming of a Crown Princess but I believe that even the King and Queen would be shocked and happy to hear that coming from you. One of them might have a heart attack. Don't tell them I said that, please."

Santana shakes her head dismissively and starts to speak when the beautiful waitress from last night approaches them, cutting their conversation.

"Hi. Any of you guys want anything from the kitchen? We just hired a new cook and the sliders are the bomb!" The waitress declares with a small smile, her attention on Santana who's dumbly staring back at her. "Hey, aren't you the ones who were kicked out the other night?"

"I-I… Uh…"

Kurt chuckles at Santana's behavior, nudging her to get it together. "Yeah. But we're new here so it was just an unfortunate circumstance that we vow never to repeat. She's even thinking of working here part-time. Am I right, Rosario?"

"Y-Yes, of course."

"That's great, it's really nice here. I'm Marley, by the way." She utters, grinning softly at Santana then at Kurt.

"Brad McDuffin. Not at all related to anything fast food like McDonald's." He answers courteously.

"I'm the aforementioned Rosario. Rosario Cruz." Santana nervously utters, receiving a curious look from Kurt upon hearing the statement.

"Cool. I heard from Tina that you guys are from Spain, how's that like? I've always wanted to go to Madrid."

"Excuse me, ladies. I believe Tina's calling for me." Kurt interjects with a subtle grin, motioning to Tina who's on her break and busy with her phone by the corner table. He stands up only for Santana to stop him.

"Do not leave me here, Kurt. I beg of you." She pleads with a knowing look at him.

"Just talk normally and maybe ask her if she'd like to go out sometime. She's really nice."

"How do we even know if she's gay like me?" She whispers, subtly glancing at Marley who awkwardly smiles at the both of them.

"We don't. Now let go of me!"

"You're fired, Hummel!"

"You can't. I'm Union." He whispers back, standing up straight to face Marley with a grin again then scurrying away towards Tina.

Santana purses her lips, sighs deeply, and looks back at Marley with the biggest smile she could muster. "So, Madrid? It's honestly one of the most beautiful places in the world, no bias."

"How is that without bias? You're from there!" Marley adorably chuckles, something that Santana mirrors.

"Well, I've seen a lot of places and nothing compares to Madrid. Or Spain."

"So, it's better than New York?"

"Night and day." Santana smiles genuinely. "S-So, you go to Tisch too?"

"Yeah. Voice, actually. You?"

"Yes, I do. Dramatic Writing."

Marley smiles heartily. "That would explain why you're so articulate with your words. I love your accent, by the way. You sound fluent in English but it doesn't overpower your natural Spanish one. It sounds so unique. I don't know if that made sense. Sorry."

Santana blushes at the beautiful girl's words. "Thank you. I appreciate that." She sighs and turns her attention towards Kurt who immediately looks away at the same time with Tina. "Anyway, I wouldn't want to keep you anymore than I already have so…"

Marley nods with a slight smile on her face. "Of course. So, anything from the kitchen?"

"Perhaps those red, North American wings and whatever those sliders are that you said?"

"You got it." Marley utters with a chuckle, turning on her heels and starts to walk away only for Santana to stop her.

"U-Uh… Marley?"

"Oh, sorry. That was rude. Did you need anything more?" Marley smiles at her apologetically.

"N-No! It's just uhmm… Would you like to grab a cup of coffee or drink sometime? Or perhaps dinner?" Santana speaks up nervously. She watches how Marley seems to stall on it for a moment, as if to think about it. It takes them a couple more seconds of staring at each other until the waitress speaks out.

"Sure, why not?" Marley grins beautifully at her before disappearing from her sight.

* * *

Brittany's almost done stretching when Professor Fancy-Pants enters the room with a female assistant in tow. Everyone immediately assumes a focused demeanor. It doesn't really faze her though since she's used to it by now.

"Alright. We're going to do the Swing today! Grab your partner and pick a spot!" The professor exclaims with everybody scurrying to do as he says just as the familiar old sound blares through the speakers in the room.

Brittany goes on to take her position, eyes quickly darting around the room to search for Rosario. She looks and looks but it becomes evident that her partner is nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me?! Miss Pierce, is it?" The professor declares, stopping the music. Everyone's attention focuses on Brittany. "Where's your partner? Don't hold up the class!"

"I-I… Uhmm… I don't know where she is, sir."

Professor Fancy-Pants squints his eyes on her then subtly counts the people in the room. "Well, everyone's present and I certainly don't like people taking turns here just so they could accommodate you." He voices with disdain. "This is Duet Repertory, everyone. You're nothing without your partner and I won't let you participate without them unless you have a substitute which in your case today, you don't."

"N-No, sir. I-I could-"

"Enough wasting anymore of our time, Miss Pierce. This serves as a lesson for everyone who's hoping for an easy grade in my class. Please leave the room and don't come back without your partner or anyone to take her place!" He scornfully declares, playing the music again and motioning for the class to follow him.

Brittany grits her teeth and shakes her head in disbelief. _Where the goddamn hell is Rosario?!,_ she thinks. She angrily grabs her duffel bag from the corner and exits the room with the mission to find her partner who has deliberately abandoned her today to give her a piece of her goddamn mind.

It takes her at least fifteen minutes to get into the dorms and ask around for Rosario and Brad's room but when she finally comes face to face with their door and to her surprise, it's unlocked. Without wasting anymore time, she forcefully opens the door like a woman scorned only to be faced with Brad cooking what seems to be breakfast on an induction cooker. He flashes Brittany a surprised but puzzled smile.

"Croque Madame?" Brad greets her happily with a plate. Brittany raises an eyebrow and rejects the offer, looking around instead.

"Where is she?!" She exclaims in anger. Brad's eyes widen, only pointing to the bunk above her left where the figure slowly moves and unveils herself to be Rosario upon taking the blanket away from her face. "You're still sleeping?! Are you kidding me?! It's 10 in the freaking morning and we have a class!"

Rosario sleepily sits up from the bed with the blanket still covering her body, locking eyes with Brittany for a moment. "If we have a class then why are you here?"

"Because I didn't have a partner. I was kicked out from the room because of you!"

"Good morning, Rosa! Care for some Croque Madame?" Brad merrily addresses Rosario.

"Oh, wonderful, Brad. Yes, please." Rosario retorts with a lazy grin.

Brittany's forehead creases, alternating from staring at Rosario with disbelief to trying to hold down her anger. "You've got to be shitting me! You're making hot breakfast in a dorm room, what are you, her assistant?"

"Where's your statue, Brubru?" Rosario sighs exasperatedly, emerging from the covers and making her way down the bunk with only a white loose crop top and boy shorts that aren't leaving anything to the imagination while inadvertently giving Brittany a complete overview of just how beautiful and smooth her dark olive skin-caramel skin tone is.

"S-Statue?" Brittany stutters with her gaze focusing on the brunette's body for a second before looking away.

"Well, someone as righteous as you must have a statue somewhere in the Atlantic." Rosario quips with a smirk upon finally standing face-to-face with Brittany, not caring at all that her clothes are barely covering anything judging by the bulging abs and toned body that Brittany can't help but admire. "Seriously. I haven't adjusted to waking up yet and you're already going off with whatever it is you were yelling about awhile ago."

"Because I'm furious with you! If you don't care, just quit the class."

"Why would I do that? I'm having fun messing with you." Rosario chuckles, invading Brittany's personal space for a moment, thanking Brad as she's handed a breakfast plate then settling on the nearby table and chair facing a speechless Brittany.

"C-Can you please put on a shirt or anything to cover yourself?"

"You're a dancer, aren't you? Shouldn't you be used to the kind of attire that leaves little to ponder on? You people wear those ballet suits that's barely covering your bum and you're bothered with this." Rosario chuckles, taking a bite of her food. "Mmm… Brad, this is the best you've made of this so far."

"Why, thank you. I finally used that technique I was telling you about that I saw on-"

"Oh my God!" Brittany angrily declares, surprising everyone. "You are unbelievable! You don't care about anything but yourself! You know what, I know who you are!"

"You do?" Rosario and Brad speak at the same time, sporting what seems to be scared and nervous faces.

"Yeah, you're nothing but a pampered child who doesn't know what to do with money and sees college in another country as a way to have fun. You're a spoiled brat!"

"W-Well, yes. That's exactly what I am." Rosario answers, anxiously sharing a look with Kurt.

"Well, thank you for admitting it!" Brittany utters sarcastically. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like it that you actually come to class because for your information, I am nothing like you. I don't have any riches to fall upon nor money to spare. I'm on a scholarship that I'm in danger of losing if you keep up this act. If I fail an elective then I'd definitely lose my scholarship and in return, I won't be able to graduate because I can't afford crap! That's why no matter how rude you've been to me, I'm still working my ass off at the bar just to make it through."

"I-I didn't realize that-"

"I don't care what you think, Rosario. Just come to class or freaking drop it." Brittany speaks exasperatedly before leaving the room and shutting the door furiously behind her.

* * *

"I see that went well." Santana voices out after a few seconds of silence upon Brittany exiting the room.

"I think she was genuinely mad, Your Highness." Kurt retorts.

"Oh, I think she was. But barging in our room was uncalled for, don't you think?"

"Given the circumstances, not really. You really should have been in class."

"Wait, are you siding with me or her?" Santana raises an eyebrow. "I haven't even gotten my revenge, Kurt."

"All I'm saying is that maybe you could try to blend in, you know. Try not to destroy any lives as we go on?"

"Fine. I'll try." Santana sighs deeply and takes another bite of her food. "Oh, have I told you that I've gotten myself my first ever date?" She adds excitedly.

"Yes, you have." Kurt chuckles. "Where are you taking Marley?"

"Wait. I have to be the one to choose where? Why does such responsibility fall on me?"

"Because you asked her out, Your Highness. That's how it goes."

"That's terrible." Santana nods hesitantly. "What if she doesn't like where I'll take her? Wouldn't she like me less?"

"It's more of a trial and error process. Why don't you ask her where she'd prefer to go so you'll have an idea? You do have her number, right?"

"I do. So, all I have to do is call and ask her?"

"Yes!" Kurt chuckles, amusedly. "You two looked cute talking to each other last night."

"I agree. She's really nice. She even liked my accent." Santana grins to herself.

"She sounds perfect." Kurt remarks. "Oh, and since we're on the topic of trying, may I remind you of your promise to find a job?"

"Job? What job? I thought that was a joke or something you only wanted me to say, Kurt. I'm barely breathing normally in this godforsaken cramped room with hardly comfortable mattresses to sleep in and now, you try to joke about making my life even more wonderfully pleasant than it already is by doing actual labor for the first time in my life." Santana scoffs sarcastically.

"I'm neither joking nor pulling your leg, Princess. This Croque Madame is used with the last of what you came here with so if you don't want to use your parents' money like you said, I suggest you find a job today."

Santana squints her eyes at him, relaxing against her seat. "Where am I going to find that job thing-" She starts with a disbelieving tone but stops herself from saying any further when a thought pops up in her mind.

* * *

Brittany enters the bar tired out of her wits. She'd been hard at work revising her routine and making sure that this time, it would pass her professors standards. Hopefully, that's how it will be or she'd be rehearsing for nothing.

She says her usual greetings to Tina, Marley and the others. All she has to do is put on the few hours needed here and she can finally rest. She puts on her apron and walks to her usual place behind the bar only to realize that someone is already there. Someone who's virtually unfamiliar to be situated behind the bar.

"Rosario?! What the hell are you doing here?!" She exclaims a little too loud.

"Ah. I'm looking for this young woman's tequila but I can't seem to find it." Rosario trails off, looking confused with her eyes wandering around the place.

"Girl, it's literally right in front of you." The customer mockingly answers, pointing to the bottle in question.

"But I believe that's store-bought. If you will make bad life decisions later based on that, then shouldn't you be looking for something that's worth more? Not that I'm saying you deserve better." Rosario replies with genuine confusion while skeptically looking over at the college girl in front of her.

Brittany sighs deeply, walking towards her and forcefully grabbing the bottle to pour a few shots that satisfies the customer who walks away without saying anything else.

"And she didn't even say thank you. How rude of such a commoner." Rosario retorts spitefully.

Brittany stares quizzically at the brunette's choice of words. "What are you doing here, Rosario? Shouldn't you be on the other side?"

"Not anymore. This is somewhat my unplanned revenge after you refused to apologize for throwing wine on my face. Ken hired me." Rosario motions to Ken who just so happens to walk inside the bar side to grab a glass.

"Wha- You hired her?"

"Yeah. She came with a high recommendation. She also speaks Spanish, Italian, French, German, Finnish, Swedish, Danish, and Mandarin. Expert in Krav Maga and black belt in Karate. Some worldwide stuff. Can you believe it?" Ken grins excitedly.

"Recommendation? Who?!" Brittany's forehead creases.

"You." Ken utters, happily walking away. "She's your responsibility. Train her well." Brittany tries to protest but to no avail. She turns her attention back on Rosario disbelievingly, eyes wide and mouth open.

"What would you want from the pub, peasant?" Rosario trails off innocently at a horrified customer, much to Brittany's own horror.

* * *

 **Updates every Saturday. X.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Happy New Year, you crazies! :)**

* * *

"Rosario, I'm only going to tell you this once. You need to freaking quit this job or I swear, wine on your face will be the last thing you'll have to worry about." Brittany seethes with anger having just served the last glass of beer for the night.

"Why? I'm having a grand time serving your fellow countrymen alcohol. You must admit, it's a joy to see them waste their lives before our eyes." Rosario retorts amusedly.

Brittany sighs exasperatedly. She's sure that her blood pressure's shooting up to the skies now and at any given moment she could die of a heart attack because of this woman. "You don't understand. This is my life you're messing with. First, my elective class and now my job that's sustaining me. You used me as a reference. I could get fired because of you!"

"I am well aware of that, actually. But contrary to your beliefs, I do need the money as well."

"Huh? You could get a job anywhere, why do you have to get one here?"

"I told you. It's part of my unplanned revenge that wasn't well thought through now that I think about it. But nevertheless, you'll just have to accept it. I'll take it as your indirect apology for your previous actions." Rosario grins widely.

"What?! Argh! You are killing me here, Rosario. I can practically feel the palpitations right now." Brittany grits her teeth.

"Ah, you'll live." Rosario quips nonchalantly. Brittany massages her temples and sighs deeply. She's about to go off on the brunette when Rosario speaks again. "Anyway, Brubru, I must go seeing that our work for tonight is over." Rosario adds, taking off the apron and motioning to leave the bar side until Brittany stops her.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Uhmm… Back to the dorms?"

"You're not going anywhere. We have to clean everything first." Brittany flashes Rosario an incredulous look.

Rosario laughs. "Sure we do. That's not really a funny joke even if it were true."

"Lucky for you, I'm not known for my humor." Brittany raises an eyebrow, taking Rosario aback. "I'm serious, Rosario. You can't leave yet. We'll have to clean up the bar and half of the tables here."

Rosario nervously holds up both hands. "N-No. No, no, no, no, no, no. I-I'm not allowed to do that. I can't clean anything. That would be highly outlandish for someone such as myself to do. In a college bar that's frequented by ill-bred university students, no less."

Brittany glances down, taking three deep breaths with her eyes closed while Rosario can only look on. "Look, Rosario," The blonde starts, sporting a forced grin. "I have had a long friggin' day. If you don't stop with all these shenanigans that's making me lose my mind, I guarantee you that The Incredible Hulk would seem like a cinnamon roll compared to me losing my cool. Oh, I'll probably even start considering murder if you continue this act. So, for the love of all that is good and holy, shut up and just do your job. Or better yet, quit." Brittany angrily huffs, forcefully handing a shaken Rosario a wiping cloth.

"B-But-"

"You take the bar. I'll get the tables." Brittany cuts in. "Just stop acting like you're some kind of princess and let's get this over with."

* * *

Santana sighs deeply as she unlocks their barely breathable dorm room, eyes instantly focusing on Kurt who's reading with wine in hand.

"Please tell me that you have more of that and if I'll be reaching for the heavens here, I hope what you're holding is not something that came out of a $5 bottle."

"Chateau Lafite 1865, one of your favorites." Kurt chuckles, pouring Santana her own glass from the decanter. "I figured that we'd have a little celebration for your first ever night of doing labor. How was it, by the way?"

"Oh, it was horrible! First, there were all those rude customers who don't even know how to say 'please' and 'thank you'. Second, Brubru the barkeep kept on badgering me about insulting those commoners and to help her pour their orders. And lastly, she forced me to clean up like the rest of the workers! Me, a princess, clean?! _Dios mio!_ "

"And did you?"

Santana takes a hefty sip before replying, face turning red of anger. "Well, I had to! She threatened to call a man named Hulk if I didn't comply. Seriously, Kurt. That woman has anger management issues. Ugh. To think that I'll get to see her at that party tomorrow night." She takes another sip again. "I cleaned the bar or at least, tried to. I ended up breaking four glasses. And now instead of getting paid for my work tonight, I owe Ken five dollars for everything! I have debt now, Kurt! This is unbelievable! How can people live like this?"

"My, just imagine how others deal with their student loans." Kurt cracks up much to Santana's ire. "It's certainly a memorable first night of work for you."

"First and last, Kurt. There is no way I'm going back to that wretched place." She pauses. "Speaking of, we also need to move out from this little prison of a room. We can get a nice apartment a couple of blocks from here. Oh, if you could have only seen how they treated me back there, you'd be horrified yourself."

"Oh, I'm sure, Your Highness. However, I believe you can't quit your job."

Santana squints her eyes on him. "What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is that, technically you have no money. If you want to afford some of your expenses or at the very least, eat, you'll have to keep working there or find something else. You have to settle that oh-so-ridiculous amount of debt as well."

"No money? What are you- I have money in the bank and you told me Mother had just wired an allowance-"

"Yes, Your Highness." Kurt smiles. "But you also promised me you'll get a job and at the same time, told me to keep the money for myself. Of course, it's still your money but there is no way you're getting it back until you keep your end of the bargain. We had an agreement."

Santana glares at him. "Kurt, this is not a good night to, as they say, 'poke the dog'."

"'It's 'poke the bear', Princess."

"Poke whatever bloody animal!" She grits her teeth. "I am not going back to that hell hole! You are giving me access to my money or I will fire you right this second."

Kurt stares back at her, completely unfazed as he takes a sip of wine. "No."

Santana stands straight, unconsciously assuming her normal regal stance and looking every bit the royal that she is. "I order you, as _Princess of Asturias,_ to obey my wishes. You shall give me access to my finances and recuse yourself from meddling in my personal business."

Kurt doesn't cower at all. Instead, he chuckles. "I told you, Your Highness. No."

Santana lets out a huff. "I don't need to take orders from you. You do know that disobeying a royal is against the law, right? You can be imprisoned for this. I'll even call Mother!"

"Meh. I'll take my chances." Kurt nonchalantly hands his phone over to Santana who ignores it.

"Why are you doing this, Kurt? I thought you said we are a team."

"We are, Princess. You said that you wanted to feel normal like a normal college student, so here I am helping you out." Kurt argues much to Santana's irritation. "Okay. Fine. Tell you what. I'll make you a deal."

"I don't negotiate with terrorists, McDuffin."

Kurt playfully rolls his eyes. "How about this, I will give you complete access to your money and oblige to moving in to a nicer place we are much accustomed to-"

"But?"

"But only if you continue working in the bar to provide for yourself for at least another month-"

"No! That would be the death of me. Anything else but to go back to that living Inferno!"

Kurt sighs. "Two weeks or no deal. I'll even let you have $100 right now to get you through the week."

"$100?! What can I buy with such a spare change? I'm going to starve, Kurt!" Santana throws her hands in exasperation, much to Kurt's indifference.

"That's all you'll get out of me, Your Highness."

"Argh!" Santana contemplates it for a moment, glaring hard at Kurt. "You know what? Fine!"

"Good." Kurt smirks, handing Santana a $100 bill. "Now, all you have to do is suffer for two weeks to earn your keep like everyone else and we'll stick to our deal. I might even whip up a few fancy meals for you until then."

"This is torture, Kurt. How am I even going to buy new clothes to wear for the week with this measly amount?"

"Do your laundry."

"Wha- I have never done household work my entire life. I don't even know what a detergent is! How am I supposed to do my own laundry?" Santana huffs.

Kurt smirks. "Ask Brubru the barkeep."

* * *

"Rosario! Brad! Welcome to the crib! Come in!" Mercedes greets them upon entering the apartment, the Saturday party in full swing. "Did you have a hard time finding the place?"

"Not at all." Kurt muses. "And thank you for inviting us, Mercedes. Here, we brought some wine." He adds, handing the bottle.

"Ooh… You are so welcome. Let me just put this away and I'll introduce you to the whole lot. Meanwhile, why don't you help yourself to some beer and shots over there?" She winks then scurries away.

"Funny. I thought we'd get shot on the way here. This Bushwick place is like an inspiration for dystopian madness." Santana comments, looking around the huge studio apartment. The duo eventually settle themselves into a corner.

"Don't be such a party pooper, Rosa. You're getting free drinks and food here. God knows you need to mooch off of people right now."

"I hate you, Kurt. Just know that if we get robbed on the way back to our dorm, there is no way in hell that I'll save you. You will die alone on the pavement, contemplating how you betrayed a royal princess until your dying breath."

"And so I will haunt your royal gay ass till the end of time, Your Highness." Kurt chuckles, clinking their shot glasses together and drinking the contents in one swift move.

"Shit. That's terrible." Santana winces at the taste. "You know, if there's one thing I miss about home, it's the food and alcohol. What they offer here is simply unacceptable."

"That's true. I miss the tapas. The wine. Oh, the hot men!"

"Why yes, those lustful lads you're very much enamored with." Santana grins. "Speaking of home, have they called lately? My parents, I mean."

Kurt gives her a look before nodding. "To check up on you, yes. They were quite horrified at the prospect of you roaming around unattended or in your words, feeling like a commoner."

"I'm sure they have. Mother probably went off on you." Santana laughs lightly with Kurt.

"Not really. But I bet she will if she found out about you working and going so far off into a 'dystopian madness' like this." Kurt smiles then clears his throat. "And speaking of that, there is something we need to talk about later."

"Let's talk about it now. We have nothing better to do anyway." She utters, handing Kurt another shot of random origins and taking them simultaneously.

"God, my palate is ruined." He groans, waving a hand in disregard as he moves closer to Santana. "Next month, the Metropolitan Museum of Art will be holding its 124th anniversary dinner wherein they will be showcasing rare collectibles from all over the world. Celebrities, VIPs, famous politicians, and various royal family members will be flocking in. One of those rare collectibles on sale is a Goya painting-"

Santana sighs, knowing full well where it's going. "Let me guess, Mother wants me to go to this dinner in their place instead, as a representative of the Spanish royal family."

Kurt shrugs, nodding slowly. "You and Prince Diego, Princess."

"Kurt, I can't do that! What if someone sees me with all the bodyguards o-or my face gets plastered in the newspaper? It's going to blow our cover!" She whisper screams.

"Yes, Your Highness. But the Queen had strict orders and even threatened to fly us back home if you declined. I'm afraid you don't have any choice in the matter-"

"Of course! When did I ever get to have a choice?!" Santana huffs in a whisper, gritting her teeth. "And here I was thinking that I'd get to have a little freedom here." She shakes her head in disbelief, her eyes wandering around until it falls on a familiar face approaching them from afar.

"Brittany, hi!" Kurt exclaims, immediately changing gears while sneaking a look at a displeased Santana beside him.

"Hey, Brad!" She responds then glances somberly at Santana. "Rosario, I feel that I see you way too much in my life." She adds, sighing at that.

Santana only flashes her an eye roll, still visibly upset at Kurt's news. Thankfully, she sees Marley from the far side of the apartment. Hopefully that interaction can turn her mood around.

"Excuse me." Santana mutters just enough for them to hear, disregarding their stares. She makes her way towards Marley who sees her approaching.

"Hi!" Marley greets with a big grin, appearing to be slightly affected by the alcohol.

"H-Hello!" Santana nervously utters. "Are you enjoying this get together so far?"

Marley chuckles. "I am now. You still haven't called me, you know."

"Y-Yes, you're right. I'm afraid I don't know what to say whenever I talk to you."

"What? That's crazy! You've already asked me out to dinner, Rosario."

"I know. But forgive me, I'm new to this dating scene. I'm a little overwhelmed by such a beautiful woman like you. I don't even know where you'd want to go for dinner. Or what cuisine you're into. Italian, Greek, or Mongolian, too many options! I don't know how this works exactly-" Santana rambles on but gets cut off when Marley pulls her closer for a tender kiss on the lips, taking her aback.

Santana blinks a few times upon pulling apart from Marley, eventually grinning widely. "T-That works. That works perfectly."

Marley giggles. "I'd love to try something Spanish."

"G-Great!" She exclaims. "And let's try that again, shall we?" Santana adds with confidence, leaning in closer this time and not missing the way Brittany is staring curiously - even lingering - at her from afar.

* * *

Brittany groans at the sight before her. A booklet reflecting a failed score from a recent quiz in Spanish Art. She tried hard to understand. She tried hard to make sense of anything. Hell, she even tried to stare at the pictures without blinking. But still, she could not for the life of her, understand a goddamn thing about art.

"Why the face? Did someone die?" Rosario muses as she approaches Brittany.

Brittany hurriedly hides her booklet, pretending to busy herself with stretching. It's been two days since they last saw each other. The last image of Rosario in her mind involved Marley, now that was a bit of a shock. "No. But I know someone who will if they don't leave me alone."

Rosario chuckles, settling herself beside Brittany. "Has anyone ever told you that you're too moody?"

Brittany rolls her eyes, ignoring the brunette until she catches her surveying the booklet she hid a few seconds ago. "Hey! That's mine!" She huffs, motioning to get it back but Rosario moves away.

" _Dios mio._ You're terrible."

"Look, I don't need you to tell me I'm not-"

"I meant this." Rosario raises an eyebrow, holding up the booklet. "From what I gathered the last time I saw you examining a piece of art on your phone like it holds the answer to the world's problems and this blasphemous quiz, you're really terrible when it comes to anything remotely related to art."

"Thank you." Brittany snaps back, grabbing the booklet from Rosario's hands. "I didn't need your wonderful validation."

"It's not that hard, you know. Art is really beautiful as is. You're just overthinking it."

Suddenly, Professor Fancy Pants enters the room with his assistant. Everybody takes to their places with their partners, including a hesitant Brittany and a groaning Rosario.

"Today is all about the basics. We're doing the Quickstep. Does everyone have a partner?" He starts while everyone nods. "Alright, ladies and gents. Take your places and follow my lead!" He adds amidst the music blaring through the whole room.

Brittany looks back at Rosario who's staring back at her dumbly. She sighs and without any fuss, asks for the brunette to come closer to her so they can start.

"Please tell me you've danced before." Brittany mutters to herself as she moves closer to Rosario, locking themselves in their dancing position.

"I have, of course. A little too much of it to my displeasure."

"Huh. The little rich girl hates dancing, such a champagne problem. Your parents must be proud of you." Brittany sarcastically voices out but immediately regrets it upon seeing Rosario assume a miserable demeanor. The blonde bites her lip, unsure how to breach the matter. "Sore topic?"

"No. But it's certainly none of your business."

Brittany nods slowly, dancing in harmony with Rosario. She thinks of something to alleviate the tension, seeing that they're dancing so close together and the guilt of having offended the brunette is somewhat eating her up. "So, uhmm… You and Marley the other night, huh?"

Rosario raises an eyebrow. "Why the sudden interest in my life?"

"W-What? No. I'm just-" Brittany sighs. "Look, I'm sorry if I offended you with the parents thing. I wasn't thinking at all."

"Would you look at that? You finally know how to apologize, Brubru."

"Way to make a spectacle out of it. Would you like to throw a ball in honor of that? Or perhaps have a statue erected as a symbol of gratitude?"

"I must say, you really are a worthy adversary." Rosario chuckles, making Brittany slightly distracted by the brunette's beautiful smile and almost losing her rhythm. "Look, if we're going this route, then I must also apologize for my hurtful words in the past. I'm tired of this back and forth. Forgive me. It won't happen again."

"C-Cool. I-I'm sorry for the wine too-"

"No, you're not."

"You're right, I'm not. You deserved that." Brittany smiles in a dopey manner. "So…"

"Right. The Marley bit, yes, I suppose. We're going to dinner this week but I've yet to decide on a romantic restaurant."

"O-Oh. I didn't peg you to be the type."

"The type?" Rosario responds with a stern tone. "Should I have a rainbow patch sewn on my forehead? Have you never seen a gay person before?"

Brittany's eyes widen. "N-No! Not that way. I didn't mean to offend you. I mean, I didn't peg you to be the romantic type."

Rosario nods slowly, looking up as if to think. "Ah, I gathered that. I was just messing around with your perceived heterosexuality." She grins devilishly.

"Well, that's just plain mean."

"Not really. Aside from not being able to take criticism, you're also a little uptight. You need to have fun. Live a little."

Brittany raises an eyebrow. "I can take criticism. Can you?" She challenges.

Rosario chuckles, this time leading Brittany into the dance instead of the other way around. "Brubru, I have been dealing with being publicly criticized my whole life. I'm practically numb to it by now."

"Huh." Brittany tries to process her words but ultimately lets it go. They dance in silence for a moment, undoubtedly smoking out all the other dancing couples on the floor. Brittany mindlessly glances around the room until a thought pops in her mind.

"I take it you'll continue working for Ken at the bar, Rosario?"

"Well, yes. I don't have a choice since I need the money." The brunette shrugs. "Why do you ask?"'

"I might have a proposition for you."

Rosario gives her a look. "Do tell."

Brittany smiles. "As you know, I have a little trouble with my Spanish Art class-"

"'Little'? That was a disgrace!"

"Don't rub it in my face now, please?" Brittany snaps back then sighs. "Anyway, I need help if I'm going to pass that course. Seeing that you seem to be well-educated on the subject matter, I need your help."

Rosario sticks out her bottom lip, nodding approvingly. "I see. And what do I get in return?"

Brittany thinks. "Well, seeing that you've been having a difficult time working at the bar so far and if you don't want to pay for everything that you will potentially wreck in your path while working there, I'll teach you everything you need to know. Making the drinks, cooking some of the basic food we make there, or even help you out in this class if need be." She pauses, small smile in place. "So, what do you say?"

Rosario contemplates the offer. "Alright then. As long as I get free rein on helping you out in Spanish Art and I won't hear any complaints-"

"You won't." Brittany almost instantly cuts her off. "I'm just desperate to pass that class if I want to graduate."

Rosario nods, grinning. "And one more thing."

"What is it?"

"I need you to teach me how to do my laundry, Brubru."

Brittany blinks owlishly, breaking out into a chuckle as she shakes her head in disbelief. "As long as you stop calling me 'Brubru'."

Rosario smirks, holding out a hand just as the music stops. "You have got yourself a deal, Brittany."

Brittany takes her hand and firmly shakes it. "It's a deal, Rosario."

* * *

 **Drop a review, will you? ;)** **Will update soon.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for the reviews! :)**

 ***Santana sounds like a more sophisticated version of Elsa Pataky. She's 24. Britt's almost 23.**

* * *

"Well, well, well… What do we have here?" Kurt starts with a smirk upon entering their dorm to the sight of a made up Santana.

"My usual beautiful self yet about to combust from anxiety and restlessness." Santana responds, walking over to the mirror.

"And what brought that about?"

"It's my date with Marley tonight. How do I look?"

Kurt looks her up and down. "Your usual beautiful self yet about to combust from anxiety and restlessness." He repeats with a chuckle, earning a groan from Santana. "Your Highness, you look stunning. Maybe go light on the make-up and change your shoes to match your dress but you'll be fine."

"Now that just made me doubt my life's worth and existence. I should fire you for always being right." She retorts, pursing her lips as she follows through Kurt's words.

"Relax, will you? Besides, you've already kissed! Nothing could go wrong."

"It's my first ever date with a woman, Kurt. A lot could go wrong. A lot _will_ go wrong."

Kurt chuckles, handing Santana a pair of shoes. "Please. You've went on a few dates before. With sizzling hot guys, mind you. Why would going out with Marley be any different?"

"Because it's a date with someone whom I'm genuinely attracted to. Plus, I'm sure that Marley won't constantly try to get me to sleep with her or brag about their latest royal getaway to a place I can't even pronounce. _Dios mio!_ She doesn't even know I'm royalty! This is a disaster!"

"What makes you think she won't try to get in your pants? My classmates have been asking about you nonstop. What more from a woman who fancies you back?" Kurt chortles to himself. He waits for Santana's comeback but instead, sees genuine fear in the brunette's eyes. "Oh wow, you really are nervous. Alright. Let's settle down. It's just a date, Princess. Isn't this the reason why we came to New York in the first place? For you to let out your inner Liberace and Ellen DeGeneres?" He adds, grinning.

"Liber who? Is he a student here?"

"He's that famous- Oy, it's not that relevant. We'll work on those American slangs and general knowledge some other time." Kurt sighs, waving a hand in disregard. "All I'm saying is you should enjoy this date. You're not in Madrid and there's certainly no paparazzi waiting for you. It's not everyday you're practically a nobody."

Santana takes a deep breath and nods. "You're right, McDuffin. I can do this. I just hope I can go scotch-free on this one."

"It's 'scot-free', Your Highness. So close." Kurt gestures as if to size up something with his right hand.

"Oh, thank you." Santana nods. "Though it might as well be 'scotch-free' since the thought of going out with a beautiful woman like Marley is tempting me to drink a whole bottle of whisky." She grins. "Tell me, is a spare change of $100 enough to pay for a dinner date at that local Spanish restaurant?"

"Unless you plan on buying everything from the menu then that's more than enough, Princess."

"Lovely. So, do you have any plans? Aside from wallowing in self-pity and envy that you don't have a date tonight?" Santana adds, grinning devilishly.

"I'm tempted to slap you with this pair of heels. No one will believe you if you told them I did, you know." Kurt jokingly rolls his eyes. "But no, I have a rehearsal for this class I'm taking then I'll probably eat at that restaurant that serves authentic Japanese Kobe beef you've been wanting to dine at. I'll probably drink a whole bottle of any Chateau wine that is as old as you've stayed a virgin. Oh wait, that's 25 years of your existence."

Santana playfully raises an eyebrow. "Touché. You know, I regret giving you the freedom to be snarky when it's just the two of us. You've certainly grown some courage too since we got here. I like it." They both chuckle. "Although there should be a line drawn somewhere, Hummel. Preferably far from my yet to be existent sex life."

"Oh, please. You love me, Your Highness. We will be together forever." Kurt winks. "And with Marley in the mix, believe me when I say you will soon finally feel the touch of another woman-"

"The line, Kurt! The line!" Santana flinches, moving towards the mirror again.

"I'm just saying that I won't be here until around midnight to give you some privacy. I'll even wear ear plugs and pop in my night mask for maximum freedom from interference."

"Whatever you say." Santana sighs. "Anyway, I must go on my way now. I wouldn't want to keep a lady waiting. Are you sure you won't panic about me roaming freely around the city?"

"Not really. I have a GPS planted on your new phone and there's always a panic button for emergency purposes." Kurt casually utters. Santana looks back at him curiously.

"We'll discuss about this invasion of my privacy when I get back." She shakes her head in disbelief, grabbing all her belongings.

"Just a thought, Princess. Wouldn't it be a bit risky if you go to an authentic Spanish restaurant? There's a high chance of you being recognized there."

"I don't think so, Kurt. The students of Spanish descent in school barely even look at me sometimes. It's quite an insult, really. Maybe they can't recognize me without the fancy attire and make-up. Don't worry, it will be fine."

"Your choice, Your Highness. Just be careful of the locals, especially the old ones or tourists. You'll never know."

Santana nods absent-mindedly. "By the way, have I ran that art thing with you for tomorrow?"

"Oh that, yes. You mentioned it in passing. What exactly is that for again?"

"It's part of my deal with Brittany that we discussed the other day. She's going to teach me all about the bar work while I help her out with Spanish Art."

Kurt gives her a questioning look. "Well, she's certainly a lucky girl. Out of all the people who can teach her art, she landed you of all people. And we're calling her 'Brittany' now, huh? Interesting turn of events."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Hardly. We're trying to be civil. At least I am."

"What a stretch." Kurt utters sarcastically.

"And that is my cue to leave. I hope you choke on that medium rare melt-in-your-mouth steak, Brad."

"Your Highness, if your date goes well tonight and you do end up having a _good_ night with Marley, if you know what I mean. Remember to give it your best and make us proud. You will be representing Spain, Princess!"

" _Por favor!_ There is a line, McDuffin!" Santana exclaims on her way out.

* * *

"Where are we having dinner?" Marley asks, sliding closer to Santana as they walk the streets of New York, the brunette only grinning in response.

Momentarily, they arrive at a hole in the wall. The charming restaurant has small round tables that give off an intimate vibe, Spanish pop culture references painted on the murals of the place, and like a sticking sore thumb, a small TV screen is situated by the bar. There aren't much people around, mostly locals opting for a quick drink and a nice authentic Spanish meal.

Santana leads them to a vacant table and holds out the chair for her date just as a waiter hands them the menu.

"How did you find this?" Marley utters with delight, looking around the small place.

"Brad suggested the place. Do you like it?"

"I love it! I've never been to a place like this. Thank you, Rosario." Marley grins, squeezing the Latina's hand across the table.

Santana blushes. "You are very much welcome. So, what are you having?"

"I was thinking that maybe you could order for us. I want to try what you'd usually eat back in Spain."

"Of course." Santana calls for the waiter and gladly spills out standard dishes that her date might like. "And two glasses of tinto de verano, _por favor_." Santana ends with a smile, handing the menu back to the waiter who's staring dumbly back at her.

She subtly raises an eyebrow, matching the young man's stare. "Is there something wrong?"

"Not really. You just look familiar. Have we met before, miss?" He counters, forehead creasing.

Santana's eyes widen, glancing at Marley who curiously looks back and forth at them. "N-No. I highly doubt it. I-I do model so maybe that's how." She lies through her teeth. The waiter narrows his eyes then shrugs indifferently as he scurries away. Santana could only sigh in relief after a possible exposure.

"Is that true, Rosario? You're a model?"

"I-It was a long time ago. I was a child pop star back in Madrid. One hit wonder." The Latina rambles, waving a hand in disregard before clearing her throat. "S-So, anyway, how are we doing so far?"

"Let's see… Smoking hot date, scenic restaurant, and high expectation of good food and drinks. I don't know about you but that sounds perfect to me."

"It does. Now all I need to do is get you half-drunk so you wouldn't notice how nervous I am and we're good to go."

Marley chuckles, inching closer to Santana. "Let's get those nerves out of the way then." She whispers, pressing her lips against Santana's.

Several bites and drinks later, Santana and Marley are enjoying each other's company amidst the backdrop of patrons slowly filling up the restaurant.

"And my mom and I were like, legitimately bawling our eyes out in the middle of Broadway! People thought that we were putting on a show the night before my first day in college!" Marley reiterates amusedly with Santana joining in her laughter. "But enough about me, Rosario. I've been talking nonstop for the past hour. Tell me something about you!" The mousy brunette utters, taking a sip of her beer.

"What would you want to know exactly?"

"Anything! What's your life like in Spain? What's your family like?"

Santana sighs, blanking on an answer. She has so many stories, if she thinks about it. It's just that she can't talk about them without revealing who she is to Marley.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I'm a typical young adult and I have a typical Spanish family."

"That's it? That's so vague!" Marley remarks, smiling. "Come on, Rosario. You've heard about my life. Come to think of it, I don't even know anything about you aside from the basics." She adds innocently.

"W-Well, alright. I don't think there's any use of hiding it really." She trails off, sighing. "People see me as one of those spoiled brats and I truly am one, I guess. And like I said, my family is the epitome of what a Spanish family is."

"I see." Marley nods slowly, seemingly getting the idea that the brunette doesn't like to talk about herself. "You won't ever let up on being mysterious, huh?"

"Not anytime soon. It's part of my charm."

Marley shakes her head in amusement, glancing at her phone. "Rosario, I've had a great time with you tonight and I'd hate to be a party pooper but like I told you earlier, I have an early class tomorrow so-"

"Oh, of course, I understand completely. Let me just settle the check and we'll go on our way. I'd love to walk you home, if it's alright though?" Santana voices out, motioning to a nearby waiter for the bill.

"I'd love that." Marley grins, fishing a few bills from her wallet prior to Santana stopping her.

"Please, I insist. I asked you out to dinner and Brad said I'm responsible for paying since I invited you."

Marley laughs. "And we wouldn't want to make Brad angry now, would we?"

"Absolutely not. He can be quite the diva, so I'd rather we follow his orders."

"Hmm... Did he also say something about a second date?"

"He may have mentioned the possibility of one." Santana winks.

Marley smiles shyly, looking around the packed place then turning her attention back at Santana. "Do you mind if I go to the restroom before we leave? Or are we in a hurry?"

Santana frantically shakes her head, standing up as a gesture. Marley places a quick kiss on her cheek before walking away. The Latina smiles to herself as she sits back down, proud of herself for getting through a successful first date.

 _"And for international news, Prime Minister David Martinez addresses the ongoing dispersal in Madrid for union and government disagreements on the topic of minimum wage increase in Spain."_ A murmur comes from the small television by the bar.

Santana nervously peers at the screen, forehead creasing as she silently watches Prime Minister Charming, as the locals call him back home, talk to the press. She watches the few patrons absent-mindedly look at the television every so often.

And then, her dreaded moment arrives.

 _"…The Spanish royal family have been approached about the issue at a charity event sponsored by the King's children, Princess Santana and Prince Diego, first and second in line to the Spanish throne, respectively. However, the royal family refuses to comment on any ongoing negotiations..."_ The newscaster narrates as an old video coverage of her family attending a previous formal event is shown.

Santana's breath hitches, panicking at the sight of her family shaking hands with various officials display on the screen. She immediately looks down, covering her face with a hand and taking a hefty sip of her drink. She takes a peek from the corner of her eye and sees a few customers motioning to the television, simultaneously admiring the sight of her and the recognition of her family.

As if it isn't enough, Santana glances to her left and notices a small girl staring firmly at her. The kid, having dinner with her family, alternates peering at the small television then back at her. This is exactly what Kurt had warned her about. Being in a restaurant surrounded by locals and just her luck, catching the news at the worst possible moment while being in the middle of it all. She tries to maintain her composure as she hastily stands up from her seat, basically throwing a hundred-dollar bill at the check with her head still directed on the floor.

"Princess, princess!" The kid blurts out, pointing at Santana and trying to gather her family's attention.

Santana ignores the waiter's words of gratitude for the hefty tip. She practically dashes out of her spot and luckily catches Marley walking back to their seats.

"Hey, are we-" Marley starts with confusion only for Santana to cut her off.

"We're good. It's getting a bit stuffy here and you will need much rest for tomorrow morning, let's go!" She rambles, taking Marley by the waist with one arm and leading her towards the exit. She looks back one last time at the kid who can only look with a pout from afar, the kid's family staring at the empty position where she was standing not more than a minute ago.

Santana sighs deeply once they're outside of the restaurant, glancing over her shoulder in paranoia.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost, Rosario." Marley worriedly voices out.

"Y-Yes. I-I'm alright. I was just- I'm almost-" She nervously smiles, waving her hand in disregard. "N-Never mind that. Shall we?" She adds, shaking off the close call.

* * *

Brittany hugs her coat tighter to her body as she arrives at the destination where Rosario had wanted to meet-up. All along she had thought that maybe having Rosario teach her everything about Spanish Art would merely consist of hours of surfing the web or condescendingly explaining what the pieces of art mean. But to her surprise, Rosario is going above and beyond by bringing her to an actual museum.

"Brubru!" Rosario's voice echo somewhere around her. She glances on her left and sees the brunette approaching her with a disapproving look.

"I thought we had a deal about dropping that nickname, Rosario." She utters, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes but you're late. So, I reserve the right to make judgment." Rosario motions to her expensive looking wristwatch. "And surely you agree that 'Brubru' has a nice ring to it?"

"No, it doesn't. It never will."

"You're an adult. You'll get over it." Rosario grins and proceeds to walk towards the entrance, leaving Brittany to catch up with her.

"Hey, wait! What are we doing here?"

"Let's see, what exactly do you do at a museum?

Brittany blinks. "Uh… Look at the paintings?"

Rosario's forehead creases as they go through security. "Admire! You _admire_ them, Brittany. Looking at them is the same as merely staring at a wall. They are priceless works of art. To immerse yourself in the history of it all is an experience in itself."

"O-Oh. It's my first time to enter a museum so I didn't really know that."

"You must be kidding." Rosario chuckles but immediately retracts it upon seeing Brittany's embarrassment. "Well, there's a first for everything. Let's make sure you'll be the resident expert in your class after I show you what you've been missing on, shall we?" The brunette adds with a grin, eliciting a small smile from Brittany.

"Alright. I understand that you are quite clueless about art so we shall start with the basics. Namely, going through the most famous pieces in this museum." Rosario leads them through a small crowd of people, inching her way to a painting and stopping at a good distance away from it. "At the risk of being redundant, do you have any idea what this is?" She adds, motioning to a portrait of a pale woman wearing a long black dress and looking sideways.

"A painting of a beautiful woman?"

"Wonderful. You can see." Rosario comments sarcastically. "This piece is titled " _Madame X_ " painted by John Singer Sargent of Gautreau's young socialite wife. It shows the contrast between the pale flesh tone of the subject against that of the black dress and the dim background. It remarkably hides a lot underneath that is subject to the viewer's opinion."

Brittany squints her eyes at the brunette. "You're basically speaking in a foreign language to me, Rosario. All I see is a rich looking woman who can smize like her life depended on it."

"Brittany, I cannot help you if you don't try to look for the deeper meaning behind these portraits."

"But how can you even look for a 'deeper meaning' out of a painting? It's just that, a picture, right?"

Rosario sighs, looking back the portrait. "Let's put it this way, what is the essence of dancing for you?"

Brittany's forehead creases. "W-Well, it's an outlet for expressing emotions through movements of your body. Like portraying a unique story along with the rhythm of the music."

"Fantastic. And that's what art is to artists much how writing stories are to writers. Art, in any shape or form, is an expression of an artist's way of depicting a story through his eyes, his experiences. It's one way of illustrating a tale without direct communication." Rosario pauses.

"For example, it may be 'Swan Lake' to us but to other people who aren't as lucky of having the chance or money to experience such, it's just a graceful way of dancing with costumes. And so, it is up to us audience to give a piece of art a deeper meaning, to look beyond the superficial aspects like how the artist originally saw it in his vision."

Brittany nods, dumbfounded. "Huh."

"So, how about we try this again. What do you think of the painting?"

Brittany stares at the portrait, glancing over its features. "I think the artist wanted to emphasize that even though the woman is stunning, she has a mysterious and hidden side to her. That the paleness of her skin represents her pure side while the black dress symbolizes the darkness in her personality. And with her head turned to the side, maybe it's a way of emphasizing that she's not showing who she truly is."

Rosario smiles, raising an eyebrow. "Well, that's a good start-"

"That, or she killed her rich husband and this is her first portrait after going to the funeral and she'll inherit millions of dollars then disappear forever. She's probably saying 'Bitch, I'm rich'." Brittany rambles, laughing at her own joke.

"So close. And then you opened that mouth." Rosario shakes her head, walking away as Brittany follows suit. "Let's go, we have lots to see. We'll try to alternate between me explaining them to you and you trying not to make the pieces into memes."

Rosario, as much as it pains for the blonde to admit, is quite the teacher. Art has never really been an interest for Brittany but as she listens to the brunette talk about the pieces with such passion, she finds herself getting immersed in it. Even random tourists try to eavesdrop on Rosario's several analyses. Brittany smiles to herself every so often she looks at Rosario, not entirely sure if it's because of how delightful the girl is or how amazed she is of her intelligence. Either way, she considers it a privilege.

Various portraits and sculptures later, Brittany is slowly starting to feel the weariness of walking around and trying hard to catch up with the brunette's vast knowledge of art.

"And so, that's why ' _Manuel Osorio Manrique de_ _Zúñiga'_ is one of the most famous works of Francisco Goya. Of course, nothing comes close to ' _La Maja Desnuda'_. The painting is located back in Madrid although the original piece is carefully resting at the Palace in my roo-" Rosario's eyes widen, seemingly panicking. "I-I mean, of the rummaging pile of incredible art pieces in the best museum in Madrid." She rambles, clearing her throat. "Anyway, remember the _'Manuel'_ piece because I'm sure your professor will include it on your exam."

Brittany nods absent-mindedly, eyebrows scrunching together. "How do you know so much about this, by the way?"

"Art itself or about Spanish painters?"

"Both?"

"It's a hobby, I guess. I like how art doesn't need to speak to explain itself, it just shows you. Or you know, I'm what you Americans call a 'weirdo'."

Brittany chuckles and finds herself staring at Rosario. She's noticed it before like everybody else, the first time she laid eyes on the girl, actually. Rosario is incredibly gorgeous, almost bewitching. It's probably her charm of being oblivious to everyone else's feelings, the mega-watt smile that could light up Times Square, the killer body and quick wit to match it, the natural finesse she radiates, or simply the mysterious aura she exudes. Brittany can't precisely put her finger on it but she's certain that Rosario is unlike anyone she's ever met before.

"How about you? What made you pursue dance?" Rosario asks, snapping her out of her trance.

"O-Oh. Well, I love it. I love how free it feels to move to the beat of a song, like there's no right or wrong answer." Brittany awkwardly grins, only realizing that she'd been holding off Rosario's stare a little more than she should be. "A-Anyway, is it okay if we call it a day? I think my brain is shutting down because of all the information overload."

"Alright then. Consider this as an introductory class. We'll take another trip to a museum next week where they have more Spanish Art paintings." Rosario voices out with Brittany nodding in understanding.

"So, did you have fun today?" Rosario asks gleefully as soon as they exit the building.

"God, you make it sound like we're on Blue's Clues, Rosario." Brittany chuckles, earning a look from the brunette. "But yes, I had fun today. Not as much as you have but still, I learned a lot."

"Why, of course. I'd whack you in the head right now if you didn't learn a bloody thing back there."

"Rosario!" A gentle voice exclaims somewhere around them. Brittany looks up to see Marley, approaching them from afar and cheerfully waving at Rosario.

"Oh. Another date?" Brittany utters nonchalantly, almost bored.

"Not exactly. She works at a quaint café two blocks from here so we're walking back to the dorms together."

Brittany nods just as Marley reaches their spot, the brunette placing a kiss on Rosario's cheek.

"Hello." Rosario greets Marley, grin in place.

"Hey." Marley responds then turns her attention at Brittany who could only look on quite awkwardly. "Hi, Brittany. How was the tour?"

Brittany barely hears it at first. If she's being perfectly honest, she was busy checking out Marley from head to toe while simultaneously admiring the mousy brunette's long legs and toned physique. Marley and Rosario do make a beautiful couple, a hot one even.

"G-Good. I-I mean, it went well." Brittany stammers upon recovering from her gaffe, receiving a curious glance from Rosario.

"That's awesome! Rosario's quite the expert when it comes to the arts, isn't she?"

"I try." Rosario chimes in, smiling smugly.

"Oh, stop being so humble!" Marley chuckles, much to Brittany's uneasiness. "Anyway, Rosario and I might grab a taco or two on the way back. Would you like to come with us?" She adds with a grin.

"Oh, it's okay. I wouldn't want to interrupt your little date. Besides, I still have to shop for a new duffel bag since mine's barely holding it together."

Marley nods hesitantly, giving out a small smile. "Alright then, if you say so-" Marley cuts herself off when her phone rings, inspecting it for a second. "I'm sorry. It's my mom checking up on me. I have to take this. Excuse me." She adds, walking to the side and leaving Brittany and Rosario alone again.

"I saw that, Brubru."

Brittany sighs at the nickname. "Saw what?"

Rosario grins devilishly, inching closer to Brittany to whisper. "You were, colloquially speaking, checking out Marley. Your eyes were lingering."

Brittany rolls her eyes then raises an eyebrow. "I wasn't and," she points to her eyes with two fingers, "these weren't lingering. Okay?"

Rosario nods, not entirely convinced. "Of course. I wouldn't hold it against you though. Marley is extremely attractive and anyone is permitted to appreciate all kinds of beauty."

"Yeah, she is. I-I mean, she's alright. She's pretty, I guess." Brittany stutters, making Rosario chuckle.

"Rosario," Marley calls out as she puts the phone down. "shall we?"

"Just a second!" Rosario answers, directing her attention back at Brittany. "We'll see you at the bar?"

"You got it. Thank you again for the tour, by the way."

"You're welcome." Rosario grins, turning halfway only to stop in her tracks to address Brittany again. "You know, I've always assumed you were straight."

Brittany's eyes widen in surprise. "What? N-No! I-I mean, I am straight. Absolutely. Nothing wrong with that. If I were, I mean."

"Hmm…" Rosario narrow her eyes, biting her lip while walking backwards toward Marley. "Which one? 'No', you're not straight or yes, 'I am' gay?" She adds in a tease, sporting that trademark smirk Brittany's starting to find sexy.

* * *

Brittany has _somehow_ known to an extent that she is attracted to women as well.

The curiosity of liking girls started when she realized she liked kissing them during those silly dares in high school, those few times she stared a little too long at her beautiful classmates in class, or those moments she found herself wondering how it felt like to kiss one of her close friends once or twice during a sleepover.

It never struck her as odd. She never felt the need to shout it out loud either seeing how society treated the few gay people she knew in that small rural town she grew up in. Then college changed everything, New York opened her eyes to a whole new world. Sure, there are thousands, if not millions, of beautiful women in the city and some of them went the extra mile to let her know how interested they are in her. But so far, she never really paid it any mind.

She likes men and how they're capable of making her feel happy, she guesses. She likes women too, though she's yet to exercise that potential. Maybe she's not ready to admit it yet. She's not really sure how she identifies but whatever it is, Brittany mostly kept it to herself. It's not really anyone's business, she always thought. Besides, it's always easier to declare that she's straight. No follow up questions necessary.

But still, she never really tried pursuing women, never really thought about acting on it, never really questioning how liking women made her feel. That is until a certain someone has started to pop up sporadically on her mind.

"Rosario, pour sideways and slowly. Otherwise, all they will be getting is foam." Brittany lectures, hands on both sides of her waist.

"Yes, I heard the first time."

"Then why aren't you doing it right?"

"Because the commoner was mean. He didn't even look at us when he ordered. He didn't even say 'please'." Rosario argues with a pout that Brittany finds a bit cute and distracting.

"N-No, okay? The faster they are out of our hair, the better. So, when they order something, just give it to them. Do another beer again."

"Oh, alright." Rosario huffs, pouring another glass. "Anyway, were you able to purchase your bag yesterday?"

"Bag? What bag?"

"You know, your new dance bag? You mentioned that your old one is worn out."

"Oh." Brittany utters, smiling at the thought that Rosario remembered such a small detail. "I wasn't able to buy one since I can't really afford anything out of the necessities."

"I see." The brunette nods, offering a smile. "By the way, I have a question. What if a lady has an ugly date? Can you imagine the prospect of a beautiful woman sleeping with an ugly man just because she thinks she can do no better? I have seen it more than enough times, it's a trainwreck!"

Brittany narrows her eyes at Rosario. "What about it? It's not our business to meddle in their lives. Besides, it's not like you'll be the one going home with them."

"Which is why I consider myself a very lucky woman. All I'm saying is that perhaps I can pour them an extra shot of tequila, free of charge? To hopefully make it easier for them to go through their activities later on. You can say that it's our way of caring."

Brittany sighs in exasperation. "That's pretty mean, Rosario."

"Brittany, I am well aware that I can be mean and that I'm certainly beautiful. But thank you for acknowledging it." Rosario grins devilishly.

"Britt!" Brittany looks up and sees Mercedes waving and sitting by herself at the other side of the bar.

"Rosario, I'm taking my break. Can you handle things here by yourself?"

"Of course. All they've been ordering so far is this awful beer anyway. You can go away, if you'd like."

Brittany nods, removing her apron. "Alright. I'll just be sitting with Mercedes if you need me." She adds, grabbing a glass of beer from the counter and settling it in front of her friend.

"Ah, the perks of you working in a bar. I get the freebies." Mercedes teases, taking a sip of it as Brittany takes a seat beside her. "You two look real chummy there. Are you sure it's safe to leave her alone? She could set the whole place on fire, Britt."

"Don't worry about it. We've only gone through the basics of pouring beer and hard liquor from their bottles. You can panic when I start teaching her about the flaming shots."

"Dear God, help us all." Mercedes declares, earning a laugh from Brittany.

"Anyway, is Sugar coming over or it's just you looking for an eye candy?"

"A little bit of both. Sugar will be here in an hour, being fashionably late and all. Brad's joining us too and is on his way. In the meantime, I'm just admiring the gorgeous men hanging around."

Brittany nods, eyes darting towards Rosario who seems to be lecturing a customer yet again for their poor life choices and taste in alcohol.

"Britt!" Mercedes calls out.

"W-What? Did you say something?"

"I was asking you if you have any plans for your birthday next week? We could throw another party, if you want?"

"O-Oh. Well, I'm not sure." Brittany pouts.

"Come on, Britt. How about dinner? Or a little get-together? Ken's even offering us free booze! You don't have to spend a dime, I swear."

"I don't know, Cedes. I still have that presentation for my professors on Monday and I'm still unsure of my fate after that. I'm going to visit home in two weeks too so maybe I'll just spend it with my family then."

"Britt, please?" Mercedes pulls a face. "It's our last year in uni and you'll go on to be famous, we're sure of it! Just please let us have you for your birthday here. We need to somehow brag to our families that we were tight with you back in college." She jests.

"Fine." She gives in, making Mercedes grin. "Nothing grand, okay? I don't want anything fancy or even a big party. I just want to spend it with you guys so something intimate will do."

"Copy that." Mercedes comments, turning her body halfway to face the rest of the bar. "So, that's the bar staff, Ken, maybe a few of your classmates. Brad and Rosario?" She continues, the last part sounding like a question to Brittany.

"Uh… Sure. Rosario's part of the bar staff anyway and she's practically inseparable with Brad. Ask them to bring Sangria and you'll love them forever." Brittany utters nonchalantly.

"They are quite the duo, aren't they? Makes you wonder how they became that close. How come we're not that inseparable, Britt?"

"Because we actually have separate lives to run and we're not each other's keeper?" Brittany grins.

"We could try." Mercedes teases. "By the way, isn't Rosario helping you out on the Spanish Art thing? How's that coming along?"

"It's been great, actually. She took me for a tour at the Met yesterday. It was educational, for lack of a better word. We're meeting up for another tutorial next week."

"Wow. That's really good for you, B."

"I know." Brittany shrugs, subtly smiling at the memory of their trip then instantly tries to act unconcerned about it.

Mercedes looks back at Rosario, innocently watching the brunette get all confused behind the bar. "You know, there's a certain charm to her. I mean, she's obviously freaking hot. No wonder everyone's crushing on her."

Brittany snorts. "You know, all your talk about Rosario is making me think that you have a crush on her."

"Britt, she's gorgeous, witty, and always smells like a thousand-dollar perfume. Bitch, I'd date her if I were gay."

"Good lord, woman. Take her to dinner first." Brittany laughs at her own joke, focusing her eyes on Rosario. "She's got an attitude though. Remember how we knew her in the first place? You even told me she deserved the wine on her face."

"Oh, she deserved that sumbitch, for sure. I'm just saying that maybe she had a little redemption with the sudden turn of events." Mercedes smirks. "Come on, if I looked like her, I'm sure as hell that Prince William would be marrying me next week."

"He's married."

"Girl, we go do the brother then." Mercedes jests. "I'm just saying that your Spanish friend looks like a celebrity compared to our asses and we all know it. Rosario literally looks like an angel that fell from heaven, that's all."

Brittany mulls over her friend's words. She glances at Rosario who by chance, serves a woman with two shots of tequila. The brunette mouths the word "free", motioning to one of the shot glasses while subtly glancing at the woman's not-so-attractive burly date.

Brittany clears her throat, disregarding the thought that she may just be starting to develop a tiny crush on Rosario. "So does Lucifer, Cedes. So does Lucifer."

* * *

 **A lot of Brittana moments next chapter. No Marley, if you're wondering. See ya Saturday :)**

 **I LOVE reviews! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Got a little busy** **;)**

* * *

Brittany purses her lips as she pours a few shots of vodka for a customer. She couldn't care less about what's-his-face rambling about his muscles and gym habits. Nope. What she's particularly bummed about for some inane and illogical reason is the image of Rosario and Marley having their own little world at one of the tables, directly in Brittany's line of sight.

Without another word, Brittany hands the order to what's-his-face who gives her a hefty tip while sliding a calling card towards her way. When he's gone, she slides the card directly into a small trash can below the bar platform. She sighs and looks up in time to see Rosario smiling at her all charming and gorgeous and tantalizing and an emotion that Brittany's pretty sure doesn't have an English translation. She returns the smile only for it to come out like she has a bad case of food poisoning with her ears turning as red as the blood running through her veins, her brain suddenly initializing at the thought of her potentially having an unrequited crush on her new friend.

"Britt, are you okay?" Sugar declares upon reaching the bar, making Brittany jump in surprise. "You look like you're lost in a foreign country. Like, I don't know, Paris." Her friend adds, wordlessly motioning for a Martini and mouthing 'please'.

"It's nothing. I'm a bit tired from all the rehearsal for tomorrow, I guess."

"Then why are you staring at the Imported Hottie and Marley like they killed your cat?" Sugar raises an eyebrow and leans a little closer. "Did they though? Because my daddy knows a guy who can take care of things, if you know what I mean."

Brittany's forehead creases, sneaking a look at the couple laughing like a bunch of fake supermodels on a pretentious cover shoot. "What? Sugar, I told you. I'm just a little sleepy. As for those two, well, Rosario's on her break and Marley's shift is up. They're probably having a little date before saying goodbye."

"Ah. I think I know what's going on here." Sugar nods knowingly, taking a peek at the other two. "Someone's jelly, aren't they?"

Brittany dumbly looks at her friend, serving the finished drink. "Me? Jealous? Are you kidding me? Why w-would I be- I'm not jealous!"

"Why not? You and Rosario have been pretty chummy lately. It's normal to feel jealous when your new friend is trying to get in the hottest chick's pants in Voice. They look rather hot together, don't you think?"

"Everybody's saying that. So, yeah, whatever."

Sugar chuckles, handing her a generous tip. "By the way, Mercedes asked me to invite Rosario and Brad to your party tomorrow. But since I'm feeling a little lazy and that guy from the booth near the doors is making the eyes at me, I'll have to leave it to you."

"Leave what now?"

"You'll be fine, Britt. I know you want to ask her anyway. Everybody gets the jitters around new friends, especially The CW levels kind of good-looking like her and Brad. I don't. But y'all do."

Brittany laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "If it's going to make you guys stop with all the potential sexual harassment and homoerotic tendencies, then fine, I will ask her myself."

"Oh please, B. Don't even try to deny it. She's certainly fuckable and how I wish Brad wasn't flaming gay. I might just have developed a woman crush on her like Mercedes. Haven't you?"

"I- What? I don't have a crush on Rosario. Or Marley. Or Mr. Muscles who left." Brittany randomly exclaims.

"What now?"

"N-Nothing." Brittany clears her throat. "How did we even get here?"

"No idea. Asperger's." Sugar shrugs. "Anyway, don't forget to ask her, okay? And if you would be so kind, ask her if she has a cousin or brother that I can get with."

"All these years and you never cease to amaze me with your self-confidence."

"I was born hot. And rich. And flawless. It's innate." Sugar winks, grabbing her drink and turning to leave. "Sugar out!"

Brittany chuckles at her friend's antics. She sighs deeply upon being left alone once again, suddenly eager for company to stave off the solace. The blonde glances around the not-so-busy bar until her sights focus on Rosario and Marley embracing by the doors as a form of goodbye. She clears her throat and decides to busy herself by organizing already organized bottles of alcohol, uncomfortable at the thought that she's invading a private moment.

"Missed me?" Rosario voices out with a smirk upon settling beside Brittany behind the bar.

Brittany's eyebrows shoot up without looking at the brunette, trying her best to hide her amusement. "A little too conceited, aren't we?"

"Only if it's true." Rosario winks. "So, anything I missed out on? No one asked for your hand in marriage again now, did they?"

"Nope. It's been weirdly boring tonight so far unlike yours." Brittany glances at the brunette. "How's things going for you and your girlfriend?"

"She is not my girlfriend. She's… a good friend."

Brittany throws her a curious look. "A good friend with benefits?"

"Marley's nice. I don't know the mechanics of dating so I don't have an answer for you, nosy person."

"Ooh… Trouble in paradise? That sucks." She follows with a sarcastic tone.

"Why am I getting the sense that your tone is laced with bitterness?"

"W-What? Of course not."

"Uh-huh." Rosario nods knowingly. "Don't worry, you will find someone to cozy up to. Perhaps one of those college not-so-gentlemen who frequent here?"

"I don't need a man to 'cozy up to', Rosario."

"A woman then?" Rosario teases, receiving an eye roll instead. "I'm kidding, Brittany. I always scare Brad that I'll sleep with him if I don't get my way. You shouldn't take it so seriously. It's all harmless."

"I'm not. I just don't want to add fuel to the fire or give you bullets to use for goading me."

"I will always find ways. You 'best believe that', Pierce." Rosario taunts, much to Brittany's ire. "You know, the lads here are quite smitten with you. A few of them are acceptable as human beings and some of them asked you out."

"Before you say anything, I'm not interested, Rosario. I'm way too pre-occupied with my own life to worry about dating in college."

"Why not? Anyone would be lucky to have the chance of dating you or merely the prospect of dining with you." The brunette flashes her a genuine smile, one that stops Brittany from working.

"T-That's so sweet of you-"

"Or if they end up to be some kind of psycho stalker or college killer, at least you still got free dinner. Tragic but worth it." Rosario grins in a dopey manner.

"Gotta file that to the 'almost compliment' cabinet." Brittany mumbles to herself. They settle in a comfortable silence, finishing a few orders until Rosario speaks up when they're left alone to themselves again.

"By the way, I heard we don't have classes next Friday. Any plans?"

"I might go home. Spend the weekend with my family for a post-birthday celebration."

"Oh, that seems nice. Why the inclusion of 'might'?"

Brittany shrugs. "I'm not sure if I can afford it in time to buy a ticket. I'll have to do a few additional shifts here or a quick class at the dance studio to compensate for the trip."

Rosario flashes her a puzzling look. "Then why not ask your parents to pay for the fare instead?"

She coldly stares back at the brunette, eager to snap only to realize that Rosario is either way too naïve or plain clueless about the world. "My family is poor, Rosario. My parents run a small dairy farm that's barely keeping us afloat and they can't afford unnecessary expenses."

Rosario blinks, nodding slowly in understanding. "Is that why you work so hard all the time?"

"Yes. I'm here on my own insistence so I have to pay for everything. I'm the youngest child and the first to attend college in my family."

"I did not know that. That's extremely admirable, Brittany."

Brittany smiles shyly, suddenly feeling a little too vulnerable for her liking. "Hey, Rosario, I was wondering..." She trails off awkwardly. "Well, Mercedes was supposed to tell you guys but I told her I'll invite you myself."

Rosario looks up. "What are we talking about exactly?"

"I-It's my birthday tomorrow and we're having a mini-celebration before our shift here. I'd love it if you and Brad would join us."

"Oh." Rosario's eyebrows shoot up. "I'd have to run it by Brad first but I'm sure he'd be delighted to attend your celebration too."

"Great!" Brittany grins widely, ecstatic to celebrate her birthday for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Santana had come to the conclusion that the worst part of this bar job is cleaning up after these commoners when they've gone. It has only been a week so far but she is more than ready to throw in the towel. What more from their New York friends who slave away day in and out?

"Rosario, can you help me out here?" Brittany calls out for her, motioning to a particular side of the bar.

Santana obliges, grabbing a floor mop on her way to the blonde. "How long have you been doing this exactly?"

"About four years now. I started around my second week of freshman year."

"And you've never quit? Look how filthy they are!" Santana motions to a red cup full of mixed liquids.

"It's better than them personally harassing us." Brittany chuckles. "Besides, we make fair money here so that kind of soothes the burn."

"You and the others are certainly warriors for holding it together all this time."

Santana only receives a smile as response, one of which accentuates Brittany's dimples. She may have stared a second too long but nonetheless returns her friend's smile.

"Oh, I meant to ask you. Why is your celebration happening before our shift and not after hours? Are we not drinking to our death?"

"Not yet. Most of us have morning classes the day after. I also kind of have this dance re-evaluation thing tomorrow night. Ken even gave me the night off to focus on it."

"What is this 're-evaluation thing' for?"

Brittany waves a hand in disregard, sporting a huge smile on her face. "It's nothing, Rosario. Really, it's just for some class."

Santana's forehead creases. She stops cleaning and trains all her attention on the blonde. "Tell me."

Brittany meets her gaze, mirroring Santana's stance. "There's this required class I'm kind of hanging by a thread."

"Hanging what? I don't understand."

Brittany narrows her eyes. "I sometimes forget that English isn't your first language. Hmm… How do I say this?" She mumbles to herself. "My fate is still unknown, I guess."

Santana nods in understanding, gesturing for the dancer to continue.

"The thing is, I kind of messed up my first routine. But instead of outright failing me, they're giving me one last chance to present another piece. And if I don't get in, I won't be able to graduate this semester like I planned and I'll also lose my scholarship."

"Isn't that a good thing? The re-evaluation?"

"It is, it is." Brittany smiles. "I'm not complaining. I'm really nervous is all. The thought of my whole future depending on one dance routine is terrifying."

"I've seen you dance, Brittany. You're a terrific dancer. You will get in."

"Y-Yeah. I hope so-"

Santana stops Brittany in her tracks, sporting a serious expression. "You don't understand what I'm saying. Your professors who are, from what I heard, world-renowned dancers, should be honored to witness you dance before them. You are a terrific dancer, Brittany. Be confident. You will make everyone proud."

Brittany blinks owlishly, cheeks turning a bit red. "T-Thank you, Rosario."

"You're welcome, Brittany. Promise you'll let me know as soon as you hear back from them?"

"O-Of course."

"Good girl." Santana jests, throwing a wink along with the devilish grin for good measure. She goes back to mopping the floor only to cease upon realizing that Brittany, who has turned completely red now, has yet to move nor look away from her. "Did I say something wrong?"

"N-No." Brittany sighs deeply, avoiding Santana's gaze. "So, it's my turn to ask questions, if you don't mind."

"Do I have a choice?" Santana retorts, smirking. "Sure, go ahead."

"I've been wondering. How did you end up here in New York?"

Santana purses her lips, instantly emitting a closed off behavior. She's known that one way or another she'd have to entertain personal questions if she doesn't want to come off as a serial killer or someone who's on the run from the law. She's mostly unsure how much she can say as to not ring off any bells in her wake.

"My parents think I'm a handful." She simply states, avoiding eye contact.

"So, they sent you here?" Brittany follows up, genuinely curious much to Santana's discomfort.

"Not exactly." She trails off, biting her lip. "I-I- Uh…"

"If you don't want to tell me, I understand. I realized that I don't know anything about you that's why I asked. I'm not really a tattle tale, if that's what you're wondering." The blonde rambles awkwardly.

Santana nods hesitantly. She sighs and decides upon herself that a little truth wouldn't hurt. It's not as if Brittany would remember her once she leaves New York.

"I sent myself here and Brad decided to tag along as well. My parents have difficulty grasping the truth that I'm gay. You can say it's my way of getting some air between us." She adds with a solemn tone.

Brittany nods regretfully, flashing her a sad expression. "I'm sorry, Rosario."

"Don't worry. I'm used to it by now, even Brad knows it."

"Brad is a really good friend, isn't he?"

She smiles. "He is. I'd be lost without him. I would probably end up like one of those weirdos who have internal monologues."

"Like 'Annie Hall'?"

Santana squints her eyes in confusion. "Who is this 'Annie Hall' I keep on hearing? Marley mentioned something about this 'Annie Hall' at that old theatre downtown. Is she a popular student at school?"

Brittany blinks repeatedly. "Wait, you don't know 'Annie Hall'?"

"I doubt I would ask if I knew, Brittany."

"It's a famous movie." Brittany grins from ear to ear. "Holy crap. I've never met anyone who hasn't watched 'Annie Hall'. You are missing half of your life!"

"Probably not."

"It's really good! You should catch it if there's a screening. I could come with you, if you want."

Santana throws Brittany a curious look. She notices how the blonde seems to avoid her stare or how Brittany's ears have suddenly turned a bright shade of red yet again. Nevertheless, Santana brushes it off as they proceed to clean their designated part of the bar in relative silence.

"Hey, Britt. It's your turn." Tina's voice puts Santana out of her near slumber. She watches the blonde take the penny from Tina's grasp and head over to the barely working jukebox. Within a moment, a rendition of an old song resonates around the bar. 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes', if she's not mistaken. The classic song echoes through the small room, eliciting a few smiles from the others who recognize its familiarity.

She follows Brittany with her gaze. At how the dancer subtly moves to the music at first, changing it up to a full ballet gesture the second, then back to wordlessly singing along to the music. Everyone is simply nonchalant at the blonde's antics but the awe in their eyes is apparent whenever Brittany dances even in the least of movements. Santana could argue that Brittany's gracefulness when dancing could rival a princess' finesse any given day.

Santana has noticed it before, of course. She has noticed that Brittany is beautiful - stunning rather. She hasn't missed the way those lads linger to try and talk to her whenever they're ordering at the bar. Or that men flirt way too hard to get the dancer's attention. More than that, Santana has seen how extremely hardworking Brittany is with all the responsibilities she constantly juggles. How much she perseveres to achieve her dreams whereas some students would normally give up if they were given the same situation. It's quite admirable, really.

"So, what kind of music do you like?" Brittany speaks up when the song ends.

"Music you've probably never heard of." Santana shyly utters.

Brittany nods, smiling. "So, you're into the indie type of music?"

"A bit. I'm particularly fond of them after the nonstop blaring of classical music back home. Beyoncé is a close second. How about you?"

"I like jazz and classical music. And the old ones too, like the 50's and 60's kind. They never get old."

"Huh. I didn't expect that from you."

"Pot and kettle." Brittany laughs.

Santana's forehead creases. "Why do you Americans have this obsessive need to metaphorically relate every situation to household objects? What fruit does that bear, Brittany? What fruit?"

Brittany laughs heartily. A sound that Santana has come to adore these past few weeks. The heavenly sound of the blonde's laugh to soothe the terrible taste of mixed liquids that should have never gone together in her mouth when practicing or the few times her raw insults to their customers subtly entertain Brittany. She reckons that it's the upside of messing up during those teaching moments.

Santana sighs, staring at the blonde's calm exterior. "If time permits, I don't see why not."

Brittany throws her a surprised look. "What? What were we talking about? I spaced out."

"'Annie Hall'." Santana smiles. "I'll have to run it with Brad first but I'd love to see it with a friend."

"O-Oh. C-Cool."

"It's a date then." Santana teases, much to Brittany's embarrassment. "Kidding."

"Hey, Brad! You're a little late for drinks." Tina calls out. Both women turn to see Kurt approach everyone.

"Oh, I came here to discuss something urgent with Rosario. Alcohol will have to wait." Kurt fake grins, throwing a knowing look at Santana.

They all curiously glance at one another before getting the subtle message. "Well then, we'll leave you two for now." Tina speaks up, turning to Brittany. "Britt, Ken wants to see you. Something about freshly-delivered crates of liquor you ordered."

"Oh, thanks." Brittany responds, removing her apron. "I'll be back in a while, Rosario. Don't bail on me and argue that the nearest Dunkin' Donuts is closing. I checked and they're open twenty-four hours. Don't let her out of your sight, Brad."

"I'll guard her with my life." Kurt retorts nervously as they watch Brittany and Tina walk away from them.

"Ugh. Can you believe I'm cleaning up after these university goons?" Santana grumbles, draining the damp mop in its container.

"I should take a picture of this, Your Highness. It's not everyday I see you working or at the very least, following orders from anyone."

"Seeing my state of bankruptcy because of you and the measures I've taken to ensure that I would not die of starvation, I'll gladly let you take a photo of me as long as the proceeds of selling it to the paparazzi would go to me alone. I'll even try to appear as candid and impoverish as possible."

"I almost but not quite pity you to call it quits on our deal, Rosa. So close but yet so far."

"I will not cry over your death, Kurt. I hope you know that." Santana snaps back. "So, what is this 'urgent' thing? Good news or bad news?"

"Bad?" Kurt flinches.

Santana arches an eyebrow. "What did you do? And don't attempt to break it to me gently."

"I'm innocent but there's no other way of putting it really. Your relatives are in town. Particularly, your aunt."

"What?! Which aunt are we talking about? My favorite, the intolerable aunt, or the overeager slightly bitter one?"

"The latter. Your twin cousins will be arriving tomorrow morning."

"You have got to be kidding me, Hummel." Santana groans. "What are they doing in New York?"

"The twins are looking for universities to attend here and your least favorite aunt is attending a gala of some sort tonight." He pauses. "I ran into her on my way home from the dress shop, that's how I know."

Santana freezes, giving Kurt a curious look. "What were you doing in a dress shop?"

"Really? That's what you gathered from everything I said?" Kurt snorts. "I was setting up an appointment next week for your dress to the Met event."

Santana brushes it off. "Did she ask what you're doing here and if I'm assuming, she also asked about me?"

Kurt nods. "I told her I'm alone at the moment. And since she wouldn't believe that, I might have mentioned that you'll be dropping by Manhattan tonight to personally examine an art piece you've been keeping an eye on." He pauses. "She invited you and, by virtue, me to a private family dinner tomorrow at the hotel they're staying at. I declined the offer though since I said that you'll be jetting off to Budapest tomorrow morning for a quick getaway. Nothing unusual."

Santana nods hesitantly. "I'm sensing an enormous 'but' coming my way."

"Fair enough." Kurt sighs. "But as soon as I got home, Her Majesty called me."

Her jaw tenses up. "Let me guess, my aunt told Mother that I'm deliberately avoiding them. Then Mother told you that I need to attend that family dinner or else, I risk being disowned or something highly exaggerated like that, correct?"

Kurt frowns. "The Queen simply suggested that you go to the said dinner and spend time with family. She wasn't really imposing although she said the words 'Take care of it, Kurt' which we both know implies the same."

"But she knows that I hate spending time with them. She's not exactly fond of their existence as well. And what, did she mention I'm staying here in New York undercover and all that? Because if that's the case then we might as well pack our bags right now."

"No, Your Highness. Nothing of the kind. She's merely asking you to go for family's sake. If it helps, your presence would probably mean that they won't be able to make up stories about you."

Santana grits her teeth, crossing her arms in protest. "I don't know, Kurt. I'm afraid it might blow our cover here. Besides, we have a party to attend to tomorrow night."

Kurt squints his eyes in confusion. "Hold up, what party is this?"

"It's Brittany's birthday. She invited us herself and coming from her, I think she really wants us there."

"Oh. Now that's a shame. It sounds like fun but I don't think you should brush off this family dinner, Princess. Perhaps we could send Brittany a gift instead? Is there anything she'd like to receive?"

"There is one she mentioned last week." Santana thinks. "I have a counter proposal for you."

"Why do I have the feeling that it's more of an imposition?"

Santana disregards his comment. "How about I go to that dinner alone while you attend Brittany's party? I know you hate being dragged to those family dinners as much as I do any way."

"Absolutely not, Your Highness." Kurt snaps back. "This is an official business. I'm not going to leave you unattended. There could be paparazzi wandering around and looking for you if your aunt tattled to her 'sources'. You haven't been in the spotlight for quite a while now and I'm sure they're dying to get a scoop."

"I will be fine, Kurt. Their hotel is what, a few blocks from our dorm? It wouldn't be a problem, believe me."

"About that…" Kurt trails off. "We're not staying in the dorms until after they leave New York. We're staying at the Plaza starting tonight for safety purposes. We'll never know about those roving eyes." He points out.

Santana breathes deeply. "So, I never really had a choice either way."

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. It's the Queen's orders." Kurt answers morosely. "All your essentials and clothes are already in your hotel suite. Your bodyguards are right outside and the limo is located a block away. Your other phone is in your purse as well as all your credit cards. We have to change our clothes first but I managed to get a dinner reservation at that French restaurant you want to try. I'll even let you drink to your heart's content tonight."

She chews the inside of her cheek, a bit downtrodden. "How about my job here? Won't they fire me?"

"I already told Ken you have a family emergency and won't be coming in tomorrow until the weekend. We need to leave now."

Santana nods in a defeated manner, unconsciously assuming her regal demeanor. "Can I have at least one thing we can agree on?"

"What is it then?"

"I'll go to dinner alone and you attend Brittany's birthday party-"

"I can't do that-"

"It's a direct order from me that you take the night off tomorrow, Kurt. I will even tell you all the latest gossips from my family in full detail. I have you on speed dial in case I need anything.

"Princess-"

"It's an order, Kurt."

Kurt purses his lips, defeated. "As you wish, Your Highness."

* * *

24\. Brittany cannot believe that she's been alive for twenty-four years now and by her estimation, have only managed to achieve so little. Or perhaps that is only something her neurotic self have been nagging herself with.

Hailing from rural Georgia, in a small town inhabited by less than two thousand people, coming to New York and actively pursuing her dreams is probably the stuff of a Lifetime movie. And really, who can blame them? For a stereotypical fate for a woman back home, people expect them to be either pregnant at eighteen or be married with four kids and another one on the way by twenty-four.

To be relegated to such a fixed assumption for women is something Brittany had been advocating against from such a young age. It was always the same thing over and over again, almost everyone she went to school with had the same fate. She decided that she was never going to be one of them not because she thought she was better than all the others but simply for the reason that what she _is_ doesn't really resonate well with small town thinking.

"Happy Birthday, Brittany!" Everyone exclaims in unison as soon as the lights come on. Brittany acts surprise upon fully entering Ken's bar, knowing fairly early in the day that her friends were throwing her a 'surprise' party.

"Aww… Thanks, guys!" She cries out. She glances around her and notices the various drinks, party accessories, and familiar faces she sees on a regular basis.

In a second, Sugar approaches her with the cake and all the candles in it. She doesn't waste a moment and blows them all out with everyone cheering then dispersing to their respective sides when the alcohol-free drinks are wheeled out.

Like usual, Brittany throws several thank you's and exchanges brief pleasantries with her guests. She's never really been a social person nor is she someone who is really adept on basic conversations at all. If she had it her way, everyone would break out into song and dance numbers instead as a form of communication.

She mindlessly watches everyone, not really paying attention to anything until someone points out the obvious for her.

"She's not here." Mercedes voices out beside her, jolting Brittany from her trance.

"W-Who? What?"

"Pretty Woman isn't here and neither is her sidekick. Bummer though, I thought they would come since you insisted to invite them yourself."

"First, Pretty Woman is about a prostitute who lucked out on her john. Julia Roberts isn't even Spanish. I doubt Rosario would take a liking to that nickname. And two, maybe they're on their way."

"Huh. How about Thalia? Is Thalia Spanish?" Mercedes comments absent-mindedly, shrugging. "I don't know, Britt. You and Rosario are together all the time. If she's really attending, she'd already be here with Brad by now."

"W-What? H-How- We are not always together." Brittany huffs, blushing.

"Yes, you are. You're inseparable nowadays. I'm a bit jealous."

"You're still my number one girl, Cedes."

"I want to be the only one who makes you happy, Britt." Mercedes quips, laughing out loud with the blonde. "Do you know where they are? Brad wasn't in class this morning too."

Brittany shakes her head. "Ken said that Rosario had a family emergency. That's about it."

"'Family emergency', huh? It sounds so-"

"Personal?"

"Sketchy." Mercedes follows up immediately. "Maybe they are both wanted in Spain or-or they're serial killers! Britt, what are the chances that our new friends are literally partners-in-crime?"

Brittany snorts. "As much as you have the chance to win the lottery. They are not as 'sketchy' as you think. They're private people."

"'Private' my ass." Mercedes utters. "What do we even know about them, Britt? Even Rosario refuses to tell Marley anything. I know because Marley told Tina and Tina told me."

"And now you're telling me. We have finally solved the mystery of how gossip travels so fast in Voice and Drama." Brittany relates, laughing. "I think that's the point, Cedes. They love their privacy. You're not supposed to know anything from someone private unless they volunteered to tell you yourself."

"I know and that's what's killing me, B! I don't know anything about Rosario. Brad gives me a few bits here and there about him but when it comes to your friend, he shuts up or tells me that it's not his story to tell."

"And he's right, it's not really his."

"Hmm… You know something, don't you?"

Brittany thinks back to the few things she's come to discover about Rosario or how the latter, even if a tad hesitant, told her something personal about herself. It makes Brittany wonder why Marley doesn't seem to know anything about Rosario at all when she had gotten to know the Spaniard quite a bit. And maybe developed a small crush along the way.

"I don't really know much. Rosario isn't the type who opens up, you know." Brittany utters nonchalantly, taking a hefty sip from her red cup.

"Brittany! Mercedes!" A distinct, manly voice echoes from their right. Both women turn to see a sharply dressed Brad approaching from their right, gift in hand. He gives them kisses on both cheeks, something Brittany has gotten used to ever since she met him.

"This is from me. Happy Birthday!" Brad grins, extending the present towards Brittany. The blonde subtly glances behind him, searching for the face she's begun to associate with a million-dollar smile that could knock anyone off their feet but alas, nothing.

"W-Wow." The blonde starts, carefully surveying the expensive looking wrapper.

"Open the present, Britt." Mercedes eggs on. She obliges, slowly tearing off the wrapper to unveil a white box. Her eyebrows shoot up as soon as the familiar duffel bag that she agreed was a luxury for someone like her lies inside the box. She peers curiously at Brad, as if to ask for an answer to an unspoken question.

"Rosario mentioned that your dance bag is all worn out. Do you like it?" He utters with a grin.

"Y-Yeah. I wasn't expecting-" She clears her throat, focusing on the Rosario part of Brad's statement. "I love it. Thank you so much for this, Brad."

"You're very much welcome." He trails off, peeking at his phone from his coat pocket. "Rosario sends her greetings, by the way. She wanted to come but had a family matter to attend to."

"O-Oh. Is everything alright?" Brittany's forehead creases. "You guys were gone when I came back. It's not that I'm curious. It's just that she and I practically spend everyday together in class or at the bar or running into each other. I mean, it's weird." She rambles, earning puzzling glances.

"She's fine. Some of her relatives are in town. So, you know..." Brad forces a grin. "If it had been her way though, she wouldn't want to be anywhere but here with you guys. She insisted that I come here and have fun instead of putting up with them. She places great emphasis on not wanting to disappoint you, Brittany." He adds with what could only be a glint in his eye.

"O-Oh. That's nice." She utters, face turning red.

"That's so sweet of your friend, Britt." Mercedes makes a face at her. "Are her relatives really that unbearable?"

Brad sighs, chuckling. "They are the worst, even Rosario knows it."

Brittany smiles as Brad and Mercedes proceed to talk about the latest school gossip. Her mind wanders yet again as she tries to remain calm about her impending re-evaluation. She glances at her watch and decides that it's time to leave and face the incoming onslaught.

"I'm heading out." She mutters softly to no one in particular. "I don't want to be the last one in queue and I'll need to do a thorough warm-up."

"Warm-up for what?" Brad asks.

"She has a removals kind of exam tonight. If she passes, she lives. If she doesn't, well, God forbid someone will be murdered tonight." Mercedes raises an eyebrow warningly.

"A little morbid, aren't we?" Brittany chuckles.

"I swear from the moon and the stars and the skies. I'll be there, Britt." Mercedes adds, pulling her in for a tight hug. "Now, you give them hell, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, Cedes." She grins, breathing deeply through her mouth.

"Hey, Britt. You can catch a ride with me, if you want. I have a Prius rental." Brad offers. "I can't stay either since Rosario might need my godly intervention from her relatives any minute now." He glances at his phone again. "If I'm going to pretend that I'm in the hospital with an emergency, I might as well act convincingly. Studying Musical Theatre has broadened my range."

"I will take that offer. My bag might rip out any minute and I might pass out on the subway or punch someone with how tense I am."

"Why don't you use that?" Mercedes points to Brad's gift with a huge grin. "Who knows? Maybe it will be your good luck charm."

* * *

"And we bought Juan that fancy yacht a week ago. He passed his final exams with flying colors and we thought that it's an apt present for such an achievement." Aunt Ingrid confidently exclaims.

"All my friends are quite jealous of me and I wouldn't blame them, really. I am after all, fourth in line to the throne." Juan, one half of Santana's annoying blonde fraternal twin cousins, smugly interjects.

"You were born three minutes ahead of me. Don't be presumptuous about it. Besides, Santana is the heir and Diego comes second. It doesn't matter whether you and Mamá are third or fourth in line because it will never happen." Juanita, the other half, sharply chimes in, igniting a heated debate among them.

Santana sighs, opting to push around the remaining food in her plate while half-listening to their inane ramblings about the throne as if she wasn't there. She glances around the fine dining restaurant in a bid to entertain herself. Several bodyguards attentively looking out for them all while keeping a stern face. Various affluent diners, curiously staring at her and some of her relatives every now and then. Luckily, she hasn't seen any wandering paparazzi waiting outside like lions ready to slaughter her.

It's been quite a while since she dressed up for an occasion like this. Or anything remotely fancy in line with her Royal responsibility. Somehow, she had gotten used to dressing down, maintaining a lowkey presence, and even seldom moments of slouching which she admits is refreshing. However, along with the mandated job and reinstated luxurious privileges of being a Princess, Santana feels trapped in the smallest of ways yet again. Careful of her every action, being self-aware at all times, and assuming her normal regal behavior.

If it had been her way, she'd rather be spending time with her friends at that dystopian Bushwick apartment. It's a foreign concept to her really, having friends who are genuinely interested in spending time with her rather than being in it for the perks of associating themselves with her. What's more unfamiliar is the thought that she willingly longs to be in the presence of such people, especially that of her friend Brittany. And Marley too, she guesses.

"Have you bought that painting, Santanita?" Aunt Ingrid speaks up yet again.

"P-Painting?" She squints her eyes.

"Yes. That painting you came here in New York for? Kurt mentioned it as the purpose of your visit. What piece was it exactly?"

"Ah, yes." She fakes a smile, rummaging through her mind for a safe lie. "I-It was a Picasso for Diego, Tía. And I did not purchase it, it's better off in a museum here where citizens would get to appreciate its beauty."

"Really?" Juanita interposes with a raised eyebrow. "It's unlike you to say such a thing, Santana. You once bought a national sculpture from a museum in Portugal out of pettiness to provoke Tía Maribel's anger. And speaking of that, where is your loyal American Bulldog?"

"I gave Kurt the night off. I don't appreciate you calling my secretary an 'American Bulldog' either. He is family to us and a trusted advisor of mine." She sighs, reining in her irritation. "And it's a Picasso, Juanita. I doubt Diego would weep over it for a birthday gift seeing that he's not that big of a fan."

"Whatever. Us men don't want art for a gift. Art is for girls or those homosexuals." Juan scoffs, waving a hand in disregard.

"My son is right, Santanita. You should know better or you would never land a husband. They want manly things such as cars, video games, or like Juan's yacht. Surely my brother and Maribel feel that way as well." Aunt Ingrid adds with disdain.

By now, Santana's had enough of the collective bullying. She can handle it, of course. If it weren't for being in a public place and her having to maintain a princess conduct at all times, she would have already gone off on them like that time she did with Brittany. She dare say that she may have learned a thing or two during her stay in Manhattan.

"The yacht which is a separate gift from that Bentley you bought for Juan after he visited that 'camp' for 'recreational drug use' last summer? The taxpayers would love to hear about all your presents, for sure." Santana utters calmly, small smirk in place when the colors drain out from Juan's face. "It's my father's passion for Art and Mami's love for literature and theatre that piqued our enthusiasm for the arts. Perhaps you should take up Papá on that illogical 'Art is for girls or those homosexuals' argument of yours, Juan."

She turns her attention to Aunt Ingrid. "And contrary to your beliefs, my parents have taught Diego and I that gender nor sexuality should bear any correlation to hobbies or interests one wishes to pursue, that we are free to follow our passions no matter what they may be. Or that marriage should never be a woman's only goal in life when she is so much more capable of doing so." She looks back at the fraternal cousins. "That's His and Her Majesty for you."

Santana grins devilishly, a smile so insulting for her relatives judging by their agape expressions. She wipes her mouth with the napkin and places it on the table. "Thank you inviting me to dinner, Tía. I'm afraid I'll have to leave now since I've been feeling a little jetlagged. I would need much rest at my hotel if I were to make it to my flight to Budapest tomorrow morning." Santana motions to stand up, eliciting Juan to stand up from his seat and her bodyguards to mirror her stance. "Good luck on finding a good university. Enjoy the rest of your night." She adds with a smile, addressing no one in particular.

Santana walks away from their table, garnering the usual attention from the diners as she exits the place with her burly bodyguards trailing and walking beside her. She's aware that she'll get an earful from her mother for what she did or perhaps a good laugh from her father and brother. Regardless, she feels a surge of relief once she gets in her limo to revel in much needed isolation from the world.

* * *

Brittany catches up on her breathing upon finishing her long-rehearsed, revised routine. She's been hard at work these past two weeks to alter her routine, hoping that this piece could finally satisfy her professors' standards to grant her a permanent slot in her major class as a requirement for graduation.

Brittany meets her professors' gaze. She tries to decipher their expressions, all three of them staring back at her with a serious face. They whisper to each other, leaving Brittany grasping at straws and out of her wits.

"Miss Pierce…" One of them trails off with a stern tone. Brittany looks up, gearing herself up for what beholds her fate.

"That was quite… fantastic." Professor Blond continues, breaking out into a huge smile with the others following suit.

"Yes. This routine is definitely much better than the last one you presented." Professor Beach Blonde chimes in almost instantly.

"I agree. It was very good. One of the best we've seen for this class." Professor with the Russian accent interjects.

Brittany musters up a smile, taking all their rare compliments in. "T-Thank you."

"I think I speak on behalf of my co-professors when I say that you most certainly will retain your slot in my class and candidacy for graduation." Mr. Russian continues, earning nods from the other two.

Brittany sighs deeply in relief, closing her eyes for a quick second. "Thank you so much, sir."

"And one more thing," Mr. Blond calls out, earning the student's attention again. "the school's exclusive dance troupe would like to extend an invitation for you to become a member."

Brittany's eyes widen at the thought of being included to such an array of talented dancers. As far as her knowledge goes, Tisch's dance troupe is an exclusive ensemble that performs locally and internationally at huge events. It prides itself for hailing world-class dancers, its members usually landing the dance companies of their dreams after graduation.

"M-Me?" She utters, gesturing to herself.

All of her professors nod in unison. Ms. Beach Blonde speaks up. "I handle rehearsals and all of their engagements. Two of our members graduated last term and we need to replace them. Given your talent and how you flawlessly executed your routine, we think you'd be a good addition to the troupe. It's a lot of exposure but also a great deal of work, Miss Pierce. It pays a bit as well." She pauses, smiling. "Scouts for dance companies all over the world are usually present in our events. There's a good chance of you snagging an invitation from one of them."

"I-I don't know what to say, ma'am."

"We'd understand if you'll decline the offer seeing that you're graduating this term. However, the offer is off the table as soon as you leave the room." Mr. Russian throws in.

Brittany sighs, contemplating the offer. Perhaps this is the start of her good fortune, she thinks. She'll find herself juggling a lot of responsibilities but for what it's worth, she's hoping that everything will result for the betterment of her future.

"Count me in." Brittany utters with confidence, grinning from ear to ear. She wonders why Rosario's the first person she wanted to tell about it.

* * *

Santana dozes off in the half hour it took for her limo to travel the maze that is New York traffic to reach its destination. She blinks a few times to gather herself and her surroundings, looking up to see that her hotel is finally in sight from afar. However, when she peers further into the street, she notices several men waiting outside her hotel, all of them holding huge cameras.

Santana grits her teeth at the prospect of dealing with paparazzi and the possibility of them uncovering her secret if they lingered long enough. How ironic it must be that she's keeping her living as a commoner a secret from her people and her life back in Spain while also concealing her true identity as a Princess from her friends here in New York.

Shortly, her limo begins to slow down which in turn, gathers the paparazzi's attention when they pick up their cameras and blindly take shots of the car ahead of theirs.

"Keep driving." Santana voices out in a haste.

"Your Highness?" The driver asks innocently.

"I said, keep driving. Head to the corner of 5th street and 9th Avenue near Washington Park. Do as I say." She orders. Santana fishes out her phone from her purse and watch as the paparazzi unknowingly take shots of the backseat of the other car holding what she's pretty sure would be the most famous bodyguards in existence if they ever publish that in the tabloids.

The brunette sighs at the thought that she somehow got away unscathed from what's sure to be a messy ordeal. She sends a message to Kurt indicating that they meet up back at their dorm with the sudden turn of events.

Momentarily, they arrive at their destination with no paparazzi in sight. Her remaining bodyguard sitting by the passenger seat alights from the limo and opens the door for her upon pulling up by the sidewalk a few blocks from her dorm's entrance.

"Your Highness, I have direct orders from-"

"Leave me." She orders. "Leave me here. Call Kurt, if you must. He's on his way to fetch me." Santana utters confidently. Without much fanfare or probably the fear of the princess' wrath, her bodyguard obliges with a head bow and scurries away.

Santana sighs deeply as soon as the limo disappears towards the distance. She glances around her and feels comfort when once again, she becomes invisible among the crowd. She proceeds to head back to the dorms with ease.

When Santana crosses the block, she notices a rundown theater with a poster of 'Annie Hall' sprawled by the box office. A faint smile sprawls on her face at the memory of Brittany excitedly relaying that it's her favorite film or the genuine surprised reaction of discovering that Santana has yet to see it or perhaps the innocent but somehow embarrassed expression of Brittany volunteering to watch it with her.

The Princess stops in her tracks, glancing at the show times and realizing that the next one would be in about ten minutes. She purses her lips, torn between going in to indulge herself and follow through with Brittany's recommendation or keep to her agreement with Kurt and her responsibilities while her relatives are in town.

Santana shrugs and decides upon herself to buy two tickets much to the sleepy box-office person's surprise of a dressed up woman appearing before him. She presumes that Kurt won't mind watching a classic movie with her while waiting out for those hungry sharks to disappear.

She goes back on her way to the dorms again, barely getting a few steps in when a figure on her left catches her attention.

"Rosario!" Brittany exclaims with a slight smile and a spring on her step as she approaches her.

"B-Brittany, hi." Santana retorts, internally panicking at the prospect of getting caught without doing anything, nervously glancing around at nothing in particular until Brittany stops in front of her.

"Hey, you! You disappeared last night so suddenly. What was closing this time, huh?" Brittany squints her eyes at her attempt of a joke.

"Domino's. I'm hooked on it."

"Addict." Brittany chuckles. "I heard your relatives are here. How's that been going?"

"Oh, you know. My family's in town so I have to pretend I'm an angel and all that." Santana smiles. "Happy Birthday, by the way. I'm sorry for missing your celebration tonight which you also aren't attending if you're here with me."

"Thank you. And I was with them down at Ken's, I just had to sneak out for a while." Santana nods in understanding. Brittany follows up almost immediately. "So, why are you wandering around the streets of Manhattan alone?"

"Strolling around the city on this fine night."

"While looking like you attended the President's Ball?"

"Somebody has got to do it in style." Santana muses with a smirk.

Brittany nods, amused. "You do look stunning." The dancer's eyes widen. "I-I mean, you look nice. Walking around in those clothes. It fits you perfectly. Y-You look okay." She rambles much to Santana's confusion.

"Anyway…" Santana sighs, grinning. "How about you? Why are you loitering on your birthday?" She adds, not missing the way the blonde's eyes subtly roam her body from head to toe in a not-so-innocent way.

"I-It was the- uhmm…" Brittany clears her throat at the previous gaffe, pointing where she came from. "Remember the re-evaluation dance thing I told you about?"

Santana nods.

"Well, they loved it and I got in the class!" Brittany adds in a screaming whisper, holding back a huge grin.

Santana's eyebrows shoot up. "That's fantastic, Brittany! Congratulations! It really is a happy birthday for you!"

Brittany nods profusely, her smile almost blinding Santana with its beauty. "It's probably this new duffel bag's luck." She adds, motioning to the gym bag Santana told Kurt about. "Brad told me it's you who I have to thank for it."

"No. Brad bought that for you. I merely suggested it." Santana smiles widely which Brittany returns, both of them resorting into a comfortable silence.

"S-So, uhmm-" Brittany starts but stops upon looking at the tickets in Santana's hands. "Wait. You're going to watch Annie Hall." The blonde states with the biggest smile she could muster but instantly resorts to a disappointed expression. "M-Marley would like that, yeah."

Santana squints her eyes at Brittany but gets distracted when she catches sight of unknowing three men carrying huge cameras crossing the street towards them. All the more so when she recalls their faces as part of those waiting for her outside her hotel.

"M-Marley?" Santana utters absent-mindedly, looking around in a haste for any salvation to her dilemma.

"Yeah. Aren't you guys-"

Without warning, Santana grabs Brittany's hand and heads the other way, surprising the blonde as she allows herself to be dragged. Santana walks a little faster than she's accustomed to with Brittany settling beside her, eventually turning to the theater entrance from a while ago.

"W-Wait. Rosario, what are you-"

"It'll be our little friendly 'date'." Santana hands the usher their tickets and leads Brittany inside. She shakes off the panic and smiles widely at the dancer before realizing she'd been holding her hand a little too long without wanting to let go.

* * *

Brittany had been a little distracted during the movie. She can't pinpoint it exactly. Perhaps it's the suddenness of this 'friendly date' with Rosario or the fact that she basically held hands with the brunette for the first time, or the overwhelming image of Rosario looking like a goddamn celebrity. Ultimately, what did it for her is Rosario's captivating presence that is certainly hard to ignore and the proximity of how close they were sitting next to each other. Thank the heavens for popcorn. She supposes that a lady in the closet can only take so much temptation and provocation not to shout out how bad she's crushing on Rosario.

"Did you like the movie?" Brittany trails off as they exit the cinema, keen for a distraction.

"I did. It's a fantastic film." Rosario nods, grinning widely.

"See? I told you! How did you find the ending though?"

Rosario thinks. "It's sad but I think we should have seen it coming. Maybe they are perfect together but there really are some things that don't work out in the end. Even with the help of movie magic."

"Sad but true." Brittany pouts. "Thank you for the movie, by the way. I've been meaning to catch it but I've never really had the time. I will consider this your birthday gift." She jests, holding up the ticket and keeping it in her bag.

"Speaking of a birthday present, I do have one for you." Rosario stops right by the entrance of the theater, prompting her to do the same. The brunette opens her purse and fishes out a brown envelope, handing it over to Brittany who has surprise written all over her face.

"Brad already gave me this bag. You don't really need to give me mon-"

"It's not money. Or drugs." Rosario chuckles, emphasizing the envelope in her hand which she hesitantly takes.

"Well then, I am disappointed." She jests.

"I think you'll love it."

Brittany squints her eyes at her friend as she opens the envelope to unveil a first-class roundtrip ticket from New York to Georgia and back. "W-What the- I can't accept this, Rosario! T-This is too much!" She cries out in shock, handing back the envelope.

"No, I insist." Rosario utters sternly. "Don't worry about the cost. Treat it as my way of thanking you for everything you've done for me so far. Or simply because I think you deserve a break after working extra hard for yourself these past few weeks."

Brittany could cry right now. No one has done something like this before, notice the smallest of things about her, or plainly cared so much to go through such lengths. "I-I don't know what to say-"

"You don't have to say a thing. You deserve it."

Brittany sighs, dumbfounded. "Thank you, Rosario. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, dear barkeep." Rosario jokes, earning a huge smile from the blonde.

"Hey, giving me an expensive ticket doesn't mean you get to call me random names!" She quips, blushing.

"Well, do you have a suggestion? Perhaps a childhood nickname or an embarrassing middle name I can substitute it with?"

Before Brittany can answer, a gray Prius pulls over by the sidewalk and catches both of their attentions. She notices how Rosario seems to stand a little straighter like reflex, turning to face Brad who's alighting from the car.

"Hi, Brad!" She greets as they walk closer to him.

"Hey, Britt. How was the movie? Did Rosario like it?"

"Oh, it was amazing! She was laughing the whole time. You should have joined us!"

"Maybe next time." Brad smiles. He glances at Rosario, somehow having a silent conversation with her.

"Anyway, Britt…" Rosario starts, giving Brad a look while she's at it. "Since it's a little late already, Brad here will take you home to Bushwick."

"Oh, that's not really necessary. I can handle myself-"

"I insist, Brittany. It's no trouble, really. Besides, Rosario will give me an earful about it if you won't let me drive you home. It's the least I can do." He offers in the most gentleman of ways.

"But, how about you?" She worriedly looks at Rosario.

"Don't worry about me. Our dorm is only a couple of blocks from here. I will be alright."

Brittany contemplates it, looking back and forth at the best friends until finally giving in. "This is probably the best birthday I've ever had. I feel like a princess." She chuckles as Brad opens the passenger door for her.

Rosario lets out a laugh for an unknown reason. "We wouldn't know about that, would we?"

Brittany smiles back, motioning to enter the car only to stop halfway to turn back at the brunette. "Britney Spears." She mutters softly.

"'Britney Spears'?" Rosario repeats.

"Brittany S. Pierce. It's a running joke." She shakes her head in disbelief. "Brittany Susan Pierce. That's my whole name."

"Ah. How glorious."

"I know. Don't abuse it to the point that I'll have to hide from you though."

Rosario nods in understanding with the biggest smile she could muster. "Well then, I had a great time watching the movie with you. You have a good night… Susan."

"Really?" Brittany raises an eyebrow in amusement. "I just told you that I have the same name as Britney and you settle with 'Susan'?"

Rosario shrugs. "I like 'Susan'. It's a beautiful name that perfectly suits you." The brunette utters, watching how Brittany's cheeks flush into a bright shade of red amidst the darkness of the night.

"Ahem…" Brad clears his throat. "I hate to break up this cute moment you are both having but we have to go seeing that I want to get out of Bushwick alive later. With all the clothes on my back."

Both women blush in embarrassment, mortified that they have been caught in quite an intimate scene of sorts. "Goodnight, Rosario." Brittany hastily voices out with a small smile prior to finally entering the car.

She glances on her right to see Brad and Rosario having a quick conversation she can't hear, or more like Rosario giving him instructions with Brad agreeing to everything to the point of bowing his head. Perhaps as a sarcastic gesture? Brittany shrugs it off and shortly, Brad gets in the car.

"Everything alright?" Brittany speaks up.

"Of course. She was just asking me to get take-out for our late dinner." He retorts, clearing his throat after. "Let's get you home now, shall we?" He follows up, pulling out from the side.

Brittany smiles, relaxing against her seat. She peeks at the side mirror on her right and sees Rosario watching them drive away. Looking closely, she notices a black limo pull over to the side in front of the brunette. A man hurriedly alights from it and opens the backseat door for her, even bobbing his head down for effect. Rosario visibly sighs deeply, exasperated even, and enters the car without fuss. If it's any indication, Brittany assumes that Rosario must really be crazy rich. Or perhaps it's the brunette's relatives' way of being intolerable. Or maybe she's too poor to know how the rich normally function.

"Huh." Brittany mumbles to herself upon their car turning to a corner, effectively losing sight of Rosario and the limo.

"What is it?" Brad asks, a bit distracted while subtly looking at the rearview mirror.

"N-Nothing." Brittany smiles. "You can put on music if you like. Don't mind me." She adds. Brad obliges and the soft sounds of jazz echo in the car.

Brittany breathes deeply, settling in a little bit better now. She peeks in the envelope again and can't help but smile at the mere sight of the ticket. That her crush gave it to her as a birthday present. She returns the ticket in the envelope and proceed to place it safely in her gym bag when a small note slips out of it.

 _"Happy Birthday, Brubru the Barkeep."_ She reads, holding on to her dear heart for fear of free falling down the depths of never ending sorrow.

* * *

 **All good? :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for the reviews, you guys! :)**

* * *

Santana has fixed assumptions about certain things in her life. How much she hates caviar regardless of its fancy reputation, how she abhors the never-ending songs about butts, or how weirdly indulgent American cuisine is.

But then, there's Brittany.

Santana's first impression of the dancer was of the typical ditzy type. Rough around the edges, a bit of a dumdum sometimes, and constantly trying to prove herself to everyone. Of course, she agrees upon herself that she's right.

However, things have shifted to make her the object of Santana's attention. The dancer's beauty is unparalleled even after having seen beauty from all walks of life, spanning across the Atlantic and beyond. She's seen Primo Ballerinas dance as if their bodies lack of bones yet Brittany, an ordinary citizen, mesmerizes her all the same. The blonde is as much a puzzle as she is an enigma to the Princess.

Then there's Marley. Sweet, good 'ol Rose whose smile and charm knows no bounds, the type of woman one wouldn't have difficulty falling in love with. A mystery that befuddles Santana as to why she doesn't feel that way. She likes Marley as a person, yes. Casual dating, sure. But anything going beyond that? Nothing. She likes spending time with Marley. But the more she does, the more she realizes that her feelings are platonically inclined. If anything, she's beginning to feel enamored with Brittany the way she's supposed to feel about Marley.

"So, which one is it, Princess?" Kurt exclaims, facing two different gowns with his back towards Santana.

"Huh?" Santana utters, eyes roving around the boutique exclusively closed for them. She's zoned out a minute or two ago when the seamstress worked on her measurements for the second time. She looks up to see Kurt throwing her a questioning look. "What was that?"

"I asked which dress you'd want to wear to the Met ball." He gestures towards a red long gown and a cream counterpart. "I like both. So, you have the last say this time."

"And to think you'll be the one wearing them."

"Not my taste. I'd go a little more Gaga." Kurt shrugs. He walks over to the champagne and pours two glasses for them. "So, what's bothering you?"

"You. Right now. Very much."

Kurt raises an eyebrow and hands her the champagne glass. "Ladies, can you excuse us, please?" He addresses the two women working the sides of her dress. "And perhaps some more of that delicious cake?" He adds. They nod and proceed to scurry away.

"You have to stop eating so much sweets or your clothes won't fit. Enough with those weird Cronuts you've been binging on with Tina and Mercedes." Santana remarks, sipping her drink.

"Now, now. Don't change the topic." Kurt smirks. "I know you well enough to know that something's bothering you, Princess."

Santana sighs. "It's nothing. I can handle it by myself."

"Uh-huh. You always say that and you're always alone. You might as well change your name to 'Soledad', Your Highness."

"You're fired, Kurt."

"Meh. I leave you now and you'll be lost without me forever. You don't even know how to go back to the dorms from here. I'll probably find you on the news, asking for alms on the street and cursing my name repeatedly."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Does my smile give it away?" Kurt grins as widely as he can.

Santana grunts, putting down the glass, and faces the mirror. "It's about Brittany."

Kurt settles on the couch across Santana. "Ooh… Do tell."

"There's nothing much to say. She's become a good friend but we'll be leaving soon, that's all."

"So, you're sad about leaving them behind soon?"

Santana gestures as if she's weighing something. "Somewhere along those lines, yes."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Your Highness, we both know you're a terrible liar. Give it up."

"Fine." Santana breathes deeply. "You know how I adore Marley, right? Well, I do like her but I feel there's something lacking. It's apparent since our first date."

"Are we talking about sex?"

"No! I-It's different- I don't know the English word. Ugh!" Santana closes her eyes and shakes her head. "T-There's no ' _kapow!_ '."

Kurt snorts. "' _Kapow!_ '? Is that a Bruce Lee move or a head-over-heels-sweep-off-your-feet feeling?"

"A combination of both."

"But- You and Marley mesh well together. You even told me she's perfect for you."

"I know what I said, Kurt. It's just that- Perhaps I'm feeling a bit more different than I did before." Santana bites her lip.

"I see. What does that have to do with Brittany being your 'good friend'?"

Santana doesn't react. Kurt regards her. One that surveys every fiber of her being. "Oh." He mutters. " _Oh!_ " His eyes widen.

"You sound like a pornstar, Hummel."

"Wait! Is that why you watched 'Annie Hall' with her? Was that a date?!"

"What? No! I was supposed to watch it with you when I ran into Brittany. Did I not explain all of this to you on the phone the other night?"

"I can't remember much. I was screaming my head off in panic over you wandering around the city alone to focus on comprehension."

"Why, yes. I barely got a word out with all your shrill shouting."

"You're lucky I was able to follow you into that cinema without her seeing me."

"You mean, with all your not-so-subtle spying a few rows behind us? You were chewing nachos as if they're nails from Ace Hardware and laughing like a boisterous obese man about to have a heart attack. I'm pretty sure you enjoyed the movie more than we did."

"I was keeping an eye on you. And her. And the movie." Kurt waves a hand in disregard. "Don't make this about me. We are talking about you and your budding 'friendship' with Brittany, Princess."

"I- I'm seeing Brittany in a whole new light since that night. The thought of her comes up every now and then and it's been days since we watched that movie."

"Is she gay too?"

"No. Her words."

"Alright." Kurt nods. "So, let me repeat everything you've told me so far." He pauses. "So, since you and Britt went on that little movie date-"

"'Friendly' date." Santana corrects him with a raised eyebrow.

"'Friendly date'." He emphasizes. "Since that 'friendly date', you think you've taken a liking to Brittany and on the flip side, have realized that you only like Marley in a platonic way because there's no ' _kapow!_ ' with her. These two things are not correlated at all. Am I still on the right track?"

Santana nods, sighing.

"And you think there's a ' _kapow!_ ' with Brittany?" Kurt air quotes the word.

Santana looks back at all those lingering moments between them. The stares, smiles, or the way they laugh at each other's gaffes. Their chemistry is undeniable, spark unquestionable. It's electric.

"Arguable."

"How showbiz of you." Kurt retorts. "If you feel that way then you should put a stop to whatever there is between you and Marley. Don't lead the poor girl on."

"Kurt, please. Let us not make fun of their financial standing in life-"

Kurt's forehead creases. "Oh dear God, no! Why would I do that? I didn't mean that literally, Princess."

"Oh." She frowns. "Look, we're bound to go home soon and I don't think anyone we know here would take kindly that we lied to them. Why not leave as inconspicuously the same way we arrived?"

"Santana, dear, you got us temporarily banned from Ken's bar our first night here and had the girl you're currently pining on throw wine on your face. Inconspicuous is not going to work for you."

Santana bites her lip. "Whatever. I'm not going to do anything about this, alright? This thing with Brittany is nothing more than a friendly gesture. She's straight too and well, I am quite gay. We're good friends, that's all. A-And Marley's nice. Maybe I'm wrong and the ' _kapow!_ ' will come soon. Some people probably don't get that feeling." She rambles.

"Friends. Lesbianism. Potential violence." Kurt grins, winking. "Got ya, Princess."

Santana shakes her head. She glances at the two gown options given to her. One cream colored, symbolizing a safe and comforting option, whereas the crimson red represents unpredictability and vibrancy of what would come next.

"Isn't it amazing, Your Highness? You came to New York for anonymity and possibly a girl to enjoy it with. Not only did you land one but you managed to involve yourself with two of the most beautiful girls in campus. Such a _poor_ girl you. Literally and figuratively." Kurt teases.

Santana throws him a look and her shoe. "You're fired, McDuffin."

* * *

Brittany comes home to their apartment feeling worn out. Her day started before the sun rose with rehearsals for her majors, followed by back to back classes, and her first meeting with the dance troupe. And still, feelings of contentment wash over her above everything else.

"You're home early. What gives?" Mercedes peeks from her bedroom door.

"No 'Welcome home, dear roommate'? Or 'You must be tired. Good thing I baked you cookies' first?"

"We're past the point of politeness and niceties in our friendship, Britt."

"Yeah. Maybe it's time to find a new roommate who'd do everything I just said."

"There is. It's called Single White Female."

Brittany chuckles, settling herself on the couch. "Oh God, my feet hurt. How about a foot massage?"

"No, thank you, Cinderella." Mercedes quips, sitting beside Brittany. "Have you been dancing all day?"

"I was. About twelve hours of it."

"What? Dear Lord, help your soul."

"And sole." She smiles. "How about you? What's up?"

"I finished my song demo project with Marley this morning. I'll grab a beer with the peeps at the bar to celebrate freedom from responsibility again."

"Great! First round is on Ken later."

"You're still working tonight?" Mercedes gasps. "Girl, you have got to give yourself a break. You are exhausting yourself."

"I know, I know. I just need to make an impression on the troupe then I'll rest when I'm dead."

"Uh-huh. Believe me when I say that you will be if you don't slow down." Mercedes sighs. "I don't want your princess feet to transform into Shrek sooner or later with all the time you spend at the studio. Or stumble upon you cold and lifeless in our humble abode."

"Thank you, fair maiden." Brittany grins. "I hear you, Cedes. I'm thinking of taking it slow at Ken's bar anyway. Part-time, if he's okay with it."

"Oh, he better be."

Brittany smiles, slouching. "Look, I'll get to rest this weekend. No need to worry. In fact, I'm looking forward to seeing my family."

"Me too! You're still good with my folks staying over this weekend, right?"

"Of course. Tell them I said 'hi' and thank you for those heavenly blueberry muffins from your mom in advance."

Mercedes nods. "Since we're on the topic, did you know that Brad's family is from Jacksonville? His dad still lives there. You guys are practically neighbors."

"Savannah's about a two-hour drive."

"Quite near, huh."

Brittany looks up. "Is this conversation leading somewhere or are you fishing for gossip about the object of your and Sugar's obsession?"

"Nah. It stops there." Mercedes smiles, proceeding to surf the television channels.

Brittany thinks about her friend's words. Admittedly, she knows that part of the reason she's keeping her bar job is to see Rosario more. Apart from the regular times they're around each other anyway. Perhaps Rosario has no plans this weekend?

"H-Hey, Cedes." Brittany starts. "Would you happen to know if-"

"Yes, I think you should invite Rosario and Brad to Georgia." Mercedes declares.

Brittany blinks. "B-But I haven't said anything yet."

"What were you going to say then?"

"W-Well," She blanks out. "C-Certainly not that! I barely know them. I was going to ask if they had plans like us, nothing else."

"Uh-huh." Mercedes retorts, unbelieving. "Invite them. Or Rosario. I know you want to take your special, new friend to meet your family."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Look, if you don't invite Rosario, I will. You know she'll love those blueberry muffins, Britt." Mercedes challenges, picking up her cellphone and finally getting the blonde's full attention.

Brittany's eyebrows shoot up, catching Mercedes's smirk. She hesitates at first until her friend starts looking up Rosario's number.

"No!" She cries out, taking the phone away. She bites her lip and huffs in annoyance while Mercedes beams beside her. "Fine. I'll invite her myself, you emotional blackmailer."

"You have until tomorrow or I strut my ass down the dorms and ask her to join my family dinner. I'm sure my folks would happily welcome lesbianism if it's Rosario-"

"She's my friend, Cedes. Stop it!"

Mercedes holds up both hands as if to surrender. "You know," The brunette trails off, leaning in, with a glint in her eye. "now that I think about it, you and Rosario would look good together. But then again, you or her would have chemistry with a potted plant."

Brittany shoots her friend a curious look, opting to stay silent. Instead, she starts mentally preparing an acceptable and not-so-desperate script for when she asks her crush to come away with her.

* * *

Santana breathes deeply in and out through her mouth. She pours another beer, glancing at Marley every so often.

"Ah, look at you. All human and poor-college-student normal again in an apron with us commoners." Brittany's voice registers in her ear. Santana turns to her left and sees the blonde entering the bar side with a huge smirk in place.

"Susan, I need to blend in with your people, of course."

Brittany laughs. An unmistakable glint in the blonde's eyes. "You're usually snarkier than that. Where did the sass go?"

Santana draws in a deep breath for a comeback but fails to gather her words. She sighs, shoulders slouching.

Brittany regards her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure? I noticed that you've been looking at Marley."

"That's creepy and a tad stalker-ish."

"Why yes, I keep a strand of your hair under my pillow and do an enchanted spell every night before I sleep." Brittany dares, raising an eyebrow. "Spill it. And for the love of God, I do not mean that literally."

Santana chuckles. "There is nothing to spill. It's merely a small matter in your otherwise colorful and eventful life. Never mind it."

"Have I told you that I still find it hard to distinguish whether you're being sarcastic or not? Because I don't know if I should be offended right now."

"Ah, keep the dream alive, Susan. We both know you have nothing going on. That was an insult."

"Says the chick who had just discovered froyo and can't shut up about it." Brittany retorts, provoking laughter between them.

"Rosario." Marley calls out from across the bar. Both women turn, sporting uneasy expressions on their faces.

"H-Hi." Santana greets.

Marley smiles at her, glances at Brittany with a quick 'hello' which the blonde returns with a dismissive 'hi' prior to busying herself elsewhere.

"I didn't know you were getting off early. Anything I can get you?" Santana offers.

Marley shakes her head and takes a deep breath. "Can we talk?"

"O-Oh. Of course." Santana's forehead creases at the all-too familiar statement she's heard in movies. "Brittany, I'm taking my break." She calls out, catching the blonde subtly staring at her before following Marley to one of the tables.

They stay silent for a moment, staring at one another.

"I-I'm just going to say it because I don't think I can bear to see anyone sad." Marley trails off, sighing. "Look, Rosario, you're really great and we look good together but… I don't see this working out in the long run."

Santana stares at Marley for a moment, trying to comprehend the words as best as she can. "W-Wait, are you- So, you don't like me?"

"N-No! I do, I do- You're amazing!" Marley cuts her off, thinking hard. "I like you. It's just that- I don't feel any more than that, if you get my drift? There's no… what do you call that?"

"' _Kapow!_ '?" Santana fills in, face resembling that of constipation.

"Yes! That!" Marley repeats. "I adore you and I tried my hardest to search deep down for that feeling but, there's nothing. Please tell me I'm not alone in that."

"W-Well, I don't know how to feel. I'm kind of speechless here. This is the first time I've ever been, as you Americans call it, dumped."

Marley frowns. "I'm so sorry, Rosario. I really tried, please know that. I don't see this – us - going the distance. I don't want to lead you on. I had to tell you."

Santana looks down. "I-I understand, Marley. Thank you for telling me how you feel."

Marley bites her lip, taking Santana's hand. "You're awesome, Rosario. I hope we can still be friends."

"O-Of course."

Marley smiles at her. She offers a half-hearted smile at the blue-eyed brunette and watches her walk away. Santana glances at the bar to catch Brittany's lingering but curious stare at her while serving a customer. She takes a deep breath and wonders to herself why she doesn't feel as heavy as one who has been rejected should be.

* * *

"Hot." Brittany answers.

Rosario holds out a pair of jeans for her.

"Warm."

Rosario nods and chucks it in the 'warm' hamper. The brunette raises a brightly-colored Prada blouse.

"Cold. And keep them separate from the colored ones unless you want to walk around campus looking like a cast member of Sesame Street."

Rosario chuckles, walking towards the washing machine and grabbing the detergent. The brunette carefully measures a scoop and looks at Brittany for guidance.

"One and a half, then turn the knob for one more cycle."

She watches Rosario follow her instructions to the letter. Amused as she is, Brittany grabs her notebook and printed materials for their study session today. She sits atop one of the washing machines and laughs to herself at the sight of Rosario keeping a stern eye on the rotating clothes.

"You do know that it's going to keep going like that for the next ten minutes, right?"

"Yes, you did tell me that. It's hypnotizing."

"I still can't believe you've never seen a washing machine or even a detergent your entire life. I'm not sure if it's weird or plain innocent. You don't live under a rock, do you?"

Rosario grins and settles beside her, leaning against the appliance. It becomes too close for comfort when Rosario's signature floral perfume invades her nostrils, the sight of the Spaniard producing a fluttering feeling of rainbows and flowers in her stomach, completely captivating her entire being.

"Susan!" Rosario waves a hand in front of her face. "Were you listening to a word I said?"

"O-Oh. I'm sorry. I spaced out. What were you saying?"

"I asked if you studied your materials yet and if your professor mentioned any coverage for your quiz next week?"

"Y-Yes. He has and I have studied most of them." Brittany clears her throat. She gestures for her handouts and hands it over to Rosario. "We're discussing Diego Velázquez."

The brunette nods and turns the page to unveil a painting. "Do you wish to discuss ' _Las Meninas'_ or should we move on to one of his lesser known works?"

"No. I think we should start with that. I'm having difficulty interpreting it."

Brittany watches Rosario stare at the portrait with intrigue and indifference. The latter's eyes surveying the subject – a young princess – surrounded by an entourage of maids of honor, bodyguards, dwarves, and a dog. The King and Queen shown as a reflection in the background.

"What's your impression of it, Brittany?"

The blonde thinks. "I'm not sure. At first, I saw it as a vanity portrait of the Spanish Royal family back then but when I thought about it and ran it by your pointers of interpreting an art piece, I think the artist is depicting the princess as the center of their world. And perhaps, with the way the princess is staring back at us, I suppose she's well-aware of it."

Rosario purses her lips. "But her entourage are at her beck and call, reminding her of every little thing she has to do. The bodyguard at the exit portrays that she cannot escape her life. The King and Queen's reflection suggests a strong presence of making sure the princess is always in line. Doesn't that show that she has no freedom whatsoever?"

"That may be true. But doesn't she like the elitism it grants her?"

"Yes, but she's a child, Brittany. Her life has already been planned way before she had been born." Rosario huffs.

Brittany looks at her friend. "But she's a princess, Rosario. What is she supposed to do?"

Rosario sighs, looking down and shaking her head. "You're right."

"Are you okay-"

"If you have difficulties with this piece, just remember that illusion and reality were central concerns during the 17th century in Spanish culture. Their presence around the princess reflects that of society's infatuation with the royal family and their burning curiosity of what beholds the princess' fate. It's an allusion to the royal family's public life."

Brittany finds herself staring again, those brown orbs and their beauty taking her into oblivion with the mere sight of it. The brunette's flowery words acting like a witch's spell over her.

"Brittany!" Rosario snapping a finger to call her attention. " _Dios mio!_ I know I'm nice to look at but _por favor,_ Art is a serious matter! _"_ The brunette exclaims with faux annoyance, proceeding to go on a tirade in her native language.

"Hello, hello! I can hear Spanish from across the floor. What is going on?" Brad enters the room carrying a plate of cookies.

"Brittany has discovered a new planet with how much she's been spacing out on me." Rosario answers.

"I-I'm not." Brittany retorts, looking around confused. "What is all this, Brad? Why are you giving us food?"

"For no reason. I love to bake and cook. I tried out this new recipe for chocolate chip cookies I saw on the internet. Of course, I tweaked it to make it my own." Brad glances at Brittany with a serious face. "If you're allergic to peanuts, don't eat it or you'll die." He adds then resorts back to smiling.

The gesture leaves Rosario unfazed, giving the impression that not only is she used to being cooked for but also feeds Brad's hobby with enthusiasm judging by the excitement on her face.

"Mmm… Brad, these cookies are fantastic! Thank you. I think this is my new favorite of yours." Rosario grins, taking another bite. "Aren't they great, Brittany?"

Brittany nods upon taking a bite herself. "Delicious, Brad."

Brad claps in excitement. "Thanks, Britt. And for being a loyal guinea pig, Rosario. There's still lemon iced tea made from scratch coming up."

"My pleasure." The brunette replies, dusting off her hands as she grabs the notebook again.

"So, what are you two studying this time? Aside from Brittany's astronomy?"

"I wasn't spacing out, Brad. I was-" Brittany searches for a word. "T-The washing machine is hypnotizing." She waves a hand in disregard. "How about we move on to teaching Spanish Art again? We've just finished discussing _Las Meninas_."

"Ooh… An interesting piece." Brad comments with a knowing glance at Rosario.

"It is." Brittany looks up, taking another bite of her cookie. "Do you still have that in Spain?" She addresses the brunette.

"Have what?"

"A Royal family. Do you still have Kings and Queens? A princess?"

Rosario shares a look with Brad, both of them resorting to a quick silence. "I heard that we still have those."

"Really? How are they like? Have you met the princess?" Brittany asks.

"No. But he has." Rosario answers without missing a beat, pointing to Brad.

"A-Ah. Yes. I have." Brad chimes in, caught in surprise.

"What? That's amazing! I bet she's so beautiful like in the fairytales! Do you also have a prince? Mercedes is so going to jump on that."

"Oh, believe me, she resembles a Disney villai- Ow!" Brad shouts, massaging his arm, then directs a scornful glance at Rosario. "The princess is stunning. From what I gathered, she's snobby and quite a pain in the ass for her Royal household, especially the assistant." He grins devilishly. "She also has a brother, the Prince, but tell Mercedes that she's older by a decade so it's a no go-"

"Brad, don't you have to follow up on our new living quarters? Or perhaps that lemon iced tea you want us to try?" Rosario cuts in, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You're leaving?" Brittany's eyes widen.

"No, Britt. We're moving to a new apartment because your friend here cannot stand living in what she says is a 'peasant's shoe closet' anymore." Brad mocks.

Brittany laughs heartily. "Checks out."

Brad nods. "In that case then, I will leave you two alone in your intimate study buddy time. I'll be in our dorm room watching 'The Wizard of Oz' while packing our things and drinking the best lemon iced tea ever. Ta-ta!" He adds before exiting the room.

"You two are too cute to handle." Brittany comments. "If you both weren't gay; I would've pegged you as the perfect couple. Marley would agree with me on that." She teases but holds back upon catching the frown on Rosario's face. "Is everything okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"N-No." Rosario looks down, shaking her head. "Marley dumped me last night."

Brittany's eyebrows shoot up. She grabs the plate of cookies and shoves it towards her friend. "Oh my gosh! Here, have some cookies! Please don't cry, I don't know how to handle people crying in front of me."

Rosario chuckles. "I won't. It's fine, Brittany. It's quite a bruise to my ego, with my good looks and irresistible charm, but I will be alright."

"You forgot the inflated conceitedness." Brittany jests. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want ice cream or that strawberry froyo you like?

"No, thank you. Although, and since you asked, I would very much appreciate if you finish the rest of my laundry."

"Ha ha. Nice try." Brittany grins, holding Rosario's stare longer than usual. She clears her throat. "Did Marley say why?"

"She said that she doesn't see us going the distance. There's always been a lack of internal factor in our short-lived bliss. There was admiration but there's no-"

"Spark?" Brittany fills in, meeting the brunette's gaze ever so intensely.

"Yes. That's the word I've been looking for!" Rosario nods. "I guess we're meant to be as platonic as they come."

"A-Are we platonic?" Brittany slips out.

Rosario glances at her, puzzled. The brunette's about to answer when a washing machine goes off, breaking their moment and saving Brittany from embarrassment.

She sighs in relief. "B-By the way, thank you again for the tickets. My parents have been talking my ear off about having me for the weekend."

"You're welcome but you'll have to stop thanking me every single day, Britt. "

Brittany smiles, watching the brunette concentrate on her Spanish Art materials again. "How about you and Brad? Any plans for the weekend?"

"Aside from pouring cement in the form of wine and questionable liquor in the cracks of my not-so-broken heart as Brad had promised and possibly moving to our new apartment, we have no plans I am aware of."

"So, you're not coming home to visit your family?"

Rosario shakes her head, eyes still on the notebook. "Too far, too stressful."

"What about Brad's family here?"

Rosario tilts her head. "He hasn't mentioned any interest. He says it's too far for me. Why do you ask again?"

"N-Nothing." Brittany looks down. She maintains her gaze on the floor, part in shame and the other in fear of getting caught for knowing too much. She reflects back on Mercedes's words. There's no harm on inviting the person who gave her the plane tickets, now, is there? In her mind, Rosario is a friend. A _good_ friend whom she has a huge crush on. And seeing that said friend has no plans for the weekend and Brittany's trying to be helpful in filling that spot, who's to say that her intentions are presumed with malice?

"H-Hey, Rosario." Brittany trails off. "If you're not doing anything this weekend, do you maybe, want to come with me to Georgia?"

Rosario stares back, dumbfounded.

"I-I mean, my parents would love to meet you. Treat it as me returning the favor for everything you've done so far. Or a short vacation after getting dumped?"

"Brittany, you don't have to-"

"I don't. I _want_ to." Brittany utters. "I'm not forcing you to come but the offer is on the table."

Rosario sighs. "I don't think I'm allowed to go that far off the grid. Even if I were to accept your invitation, I'd still have to run this by Brad-"

"Why do you always check with Brad first?"

Rosario freezes. "B-Because I want to include him in all my experiences here in New York. I'd have to ask his permission before I include him on something, don't I? It's not a sexist thing, if that's what you're implying. It's a two-way street. Besides, I wouldn't want to come home to that measly dorm room at the sight of his mangled corpse on a lonesome night."

"Brad is welcome to join us. You don't have to worry about him dying alone."

"Oh, I'm not worried if it's bound to happen."

Brittany chortles. "Anyway, maybe we could split the ticket you gave me and exchange it with economy seats for us instead."

"You really don't have to do that, Susan. Enjoy the luxury I'm accustomed to." The brunette says in an all-too innocent manner.

"Okay but how will you get there?"

"I'm sure Brad can fix a mode of transportation for me, if I were to go."

Brittany peers at the brunette in a playful gaze. "Are you sure you're not hiding something from me? This feels very CIA-secretive to me."

"I was a famous child pop star back in Spain." Rosario reiterates with a straight face.

Brittany blinks then breaks out into a laugh. "That would explain a lot if that were true. So, I take it you're coming back home with me?"

Rosario contemplates it, facing her with arms crossed. "I'd have to run it by Brad first but I would most certainly love to take you up on that offer."

* * *

"You are so not going, Your Highness!" Kurt exclaims, shock apparent in his face.

"Oh, come on, Kurt. It's only for the weekend. I won't die. Probably." Santana argues, stuffing her duffel bag with clothes and necessities.

"No! I am not allowing you to go anywhere beyond a mile radius from me or the Statue of Liberty! If I have to sprawl out my body Sports Illustrated-style between you and the door, so help me God, I will!"

"Then come with me. Brittany invited you to tag along. They have strapping cowboys who look like Armani models there." Santana grins. "Noise-cancelling headphones to blur out your voice, please." She motions for the object beside Kurt.

"This is preposterous! Such promises will not sway me! We are not going anywhere. We're moving to that new apartment this weekend."

Santana sighs. "Kurt, I am going with or without you. And if I were you, might as well string along. Or better yet, visit your father. I checked and it's only a short drive from Brittany's town. You can pick me up the day Brittany's set to return here. I'd love to meet your dad and ask him where he has gone wrong to make you such an uptight bitch."

Kurt gasps. "How dare you call me 'uptight'?!" He shakes his head at Santana's amusement. "Fine. Suppose I go, how do you plan on getting there in the first place? Your passport's under your real name and surely, security and tattle tales won't hesitate to report to the paparazzi. They will be in Savannah before you even get there! Brittany will know your secret!"

Santana stops packing and purses her lips. "You're right. I'll leave that to you then. Start packing your things, Hummel."

Kurt breathes deeply. "Shall I prepare security as well?"

"No. But why bother asking when I know you'll install them in secret?"

"Only those times when I'm not around. A 36-hour window without me which by far, is the longest we will ever have gone without seeing each other since the Queen hired me. Will you survive on your own, Princess?"

"I'll try my best not to celebrate your absence."

Kurt crosses his arms. "Aren't you afraid that she'll find out your secret? You'll be stuck with her and her family for two whole days, Your Highness. That's risky."

Santana glances at Kurt. She thinks about the possibilities of Brittany uncovering her secret and the consequences that follow. How much she wishes that she doesn't have to hide anything from Brittany. A friend whom she's finding in a new light. A friend she's slowly having a crush on. A developing attraction she cannot shy away from and a reason why she already made up her mind before Brittany finished asking her.

Santana bites her lip. She takes a step back and surveys her poor packing skills. "It is. But it's Brittany." She sighs and turns to Kurt. "I'm spending a weekend with the commoners."

* * *

 **Hope you enjoyed this one! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Look who's back :)**

* * *

Santana remains motionless in the passenger seat, blinking owlishly.

"Kurt," she starts, tilting her head, "when I said that I'll be spending the weekend with peasants, I did not mean it _literally_." She looks up again, surveying the vast countryside farm and the Pierces' home.

"Brittany did say her family lives on a farm, Princess. What did you expect? A palace?" Kurt chuckles. He turns to face a dumbfounded Santana. "Geez, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"The apparition of my future dead body dying in this godforsaken land just passed before my eyes."

"You wanted to go here. Hell, you insisted." Kurt remarks. "I thought it's what you wanted."

"It _was._ This farm looks like the premise of a stereotypical American horror movie. Vacation, countryside, and a barn." She pauses. "Kurt, I'm going to die here."

"Don't be silly, Rosa. As the virgin, you'll be the only one who survives." Kurt grins. "Oh well. We've been sitting here as if we're contemplating life and death-"

"I am."

"Uh-huh. Time to get out and face the wilderness, Your Highness." Kurt smirks. He knocks on the window, signaling the bodyguard to open the door for them. "After you?" He adds, stretching his hand out.

Santana sighs, shooting daggers at him. She alights the car and immediately belches at the faint smell of animal manure.

"Thank you, Pablo." Kurt addresses the bodyguard, making subtle beautiful eyes. He takes a deep breath and smiles. "Ah, nothing like the deep South. Fresh air, peaceful surroundings, and the smell of free range animals taking a dump."

She clears her throat, reining in her disgust. " _Dios mio._ I will not last until the next hour. This jetlag isn't helping either."

"You survived living in the dorm room. You'll live, Princess." Kurt utters, motioning for Santana's duffel bag. "Let's see, you don't have any of your credit cards because we can't risk you losing them with your real identity sprawled on it. The only I.D. you have is your blasphemous fake 'Rosario Cruz' one. So, to save your soul, here is $300 which is more than generous enough for two days."

"Great." Santana responds with disdain. Kurt regards her, squinting his eyes as if contemplating an idea. She counters with a deadpan look. "Uh-oh. That's not good. You only do that when you're up to something that I'll get blamed for in the end."

Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Seeing that this place could not be more peaceful and you always go on about your lack of freedom, what do you think about having no security for the weekend?"

"Pardon me?"

"You heard me." Kurt grins. "No security whatsoever and no wonderful Kurt Hummel, all for the first time ever. My line is open 24/7, just in case. Here, I'll even add an extra $200 to bribe you."

"Kurt, this is not a good idea. What if I die here?"

"You won't. I did background checks on everyone and they're clean. It's the safest place I can leave you alone and no one will find you."

"You sound like a serial killer!"

Kurt waves a hand in disregard. "Don't you want to spend some alone time with Brittany? Get to know her? Then _really_ get to know her?" He winks.

"Kurt!" Santana blushes. "She's straight and you can't leave me here with her family-"

"Meh. Decision made." Kurt declares, getting inside the car. "Do have a wonderful time. Don't forget to give me a call every now and then so I'll know you're still alive."

"Kurt, no! I changed my mind! Open the door!" She exclaims, thumping on the car.

Kurt opens the window and slides his sunglasses down, sporting a smirk. "Have a great weekend, Your Highness." He casts his glance up front. "Pablo, _vamonos, por favor._ "

The car begins to move away from Santana as she makes a few steps to catch up to it. "Kurt! Kurt!" She cries but to no avail, leaving her to stare and sigh in helplessness.

"Rosario!" Brittany calls out with a huge grin, emerging from the humble farmhouse. "Was that Brad in the car?"

"B-Brittany, hi. Yes, it was Brad. He had to go at once to meet with his father." Santana retorts, assuming her usual put together stance.

"Oh, that's okay. I heard you shouting though, are you okay?"

Santana's eyebrows shoot up. "Ah! Y-Yes, yes! You caught me at a bad time over a nonsensical disagreement with Brad."

Brittany nods, eyes surveying the horizon. She bites her lip, turning back her attention to the brunette. Their short silence ceases when a middle-aged blonde couple, looking every bit the country folk in their humble clothes and country charming smiles come out to greet Santana.

"O-Oh, Mom, Dad, this is Rosario. Rosario, this is my mom and dad." Brittany gestures.

Santana smiles, standing a bit straighter. A reflex she developed early on whenever meeting new people. She holds out a hand to the approaching older woman who takes it. "Hello, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, we're so glad you could join us. Please call me Susan, dear." Mrs. Pierce utters. She pulls Santana into a tight hug that surprises the latter, resorting to an awkward pat on the older woman's back. "We seldom have Brittany's friends over." Susan adds, letting her go and taking a glance at Brittany who bites her lip, ashamed of being found out.

"T-Thank you. I'm glad to be invited."

"Hello. I'm Robert. Please treat our home as your own." Robert Pierce utters, offering a hand which the brunette takes.

"Hey, New York! We found the saddle you've been looking for." A burly man in his late 20s greets a few feet behind them.

"Yeah, sis. We put it on Sally. Come try it out later if it's a good fit because Sloppy Joe here can't fit his fat ass on it." A slender but taller man jests, receiving a playful punch from the other.

The slender man then dashes towards Brittany and shields himself from the burly one's wrath by hiding behind the helpless blonde girl trying to break up the two. Santana watches on, catching Susan Pierce's subtle questioning glance at her before turning to the siblings.

"Boys!" Susan Pierce exclaims, earning their attention. The brothers stare dumbly at Santana.

"This is Rosario. She's an exchange student from Spain. S-She's a friend." Brittany declares in a shy manner. "Rosario, these are my older brothers."

Santana grins, making her way to the younger men sporting stunned expressions.

"Welcome to America! I'm Chris Pierce!" The slender one cries out, mouthing in excess and shaking her hand aggressively.

Santana chuckles, taking a step back. "Thank you."

Brittany places a hand on her face and murmurs, "Chris, she speaks better English than you do."

"Hi there, I'm Joe. I'm the oldest here and also the most good-looking, as ya can see." The burly fellow greets with the biggest smirk he could muster, extending a hand towards Santana's way. She takes it in a cordial way much to the young man's disappointment.

"Hello, Joe."

Chris snorts at the rejection, much to Joe's annoyance. "Yeah, anyway, we gotta go. I'm taking out Liddy to dinner as I promised and Joe's my ride." He declares, slapping his brother's arm which takes him out of a trance.

"Y-Yeah. We'll see you in the morning." Joe addresses the family then at Santana, "Nice meeting you, ma'am." He adds, further earning embarrassing laughter from everyone as they depart.

"Come on in, Rosario." Robert offers with a smile, taking his wife's hand as they enter the house.

Santana grabs her duffel bag from the ground and gestures for Brittany to lead the way. "After you."

* * *

Brittany's heart is beating out of its chest. It baffles her that for some reason the sight or the thought of having a _new friend_ meet her family scares the crap out of her.

She turns to a corner leading to Rosario's would-be bedroom when she peers back to find the brunette scanning family pictures hanging on the wall.

"I didn't know you're the only daughter in your family. That must be fun having two older brothers." Rosario utters, eyes on the pictures.

Brittany snorts, leaning against the stairwell in front of the wall. "Lots of bruises, broken bones, and pranks. I even have a scar on my upper thigh from a trampoline accident."

Rosario glances behind as if to search for the scar on Brittany's leg. The act only coming off as if the brunette was checking her out. "O-Oh. It's a little bit higher than what my shorts can show you." She rambles, pushing down the garment to hide her long legs.

Rosario nods, blushing apparent in her cheeks. She clears her throat and resumes walking. They turn left where a semi-open door catches her attention. Brittany follows her gaze and stands in front of the room.

"This is my room. It's almost right in front of yours." Brittany opens the door wide open. "It's a bit of a mess but see for yourself."

She leads them inside, a small bedroom almost the same size as the guest bedroom albeit dusted with pink and blue colors for ambiance. They are immediately greeted by a huge map scrawled across the wall. Several pins stuck at specific countries, some of which are color-coordinated.

Brittany blinks. She thought that Rosario would only take a peek and immediately withdraw. Instead, the brunette is taking her sweet time scanning the room with pure inquisitiveness. Brittany awkwardly looks around with her, not finding the least bit of appeal in her small space. She closes the door for some privacy.

Without prompt, Rosario settles her bag down and walks closer to the map, face to face with it. She crosses her arms and scrutinizes it.

Brittany observes her with interest, standing by the side and setting aside the mess, not usually used to people surveying her room or things with much attentiveness.

"What are all these pins for?" Rosario utters, looking at her for a quick second.

"O-Oh, well-" Brittany hesitates but settles beside Rosario, both of their attentions on the map. "The few Yellow pins are where I've been. Blue are where I want to go."

"Russia. Cuba. Germany." Rosario calls out, pointing to the pins. "Not exactly tourist friendly destinations, aren't they?"

Brittany smiles. "They're all the places with the best dance institutions in the world with distinct specializations in ballet and contemporary dance among others. They boast hailing the best dancers in the world, most of which I look up to. I plan to pursue a career or at the very least, a higher education from one of those countries." She narrates, meeting Rosario's amused gaze at her. "What?"

Rosario shakes her head, grin in place. "Nothing. I've just- I've never met someone who makes me feel so intimidated. And believe me, I've met my share of intimidating people."

"Huh." Brittany mutters, loss for words. "I-I'm not intimidating. I mean-" She bites her lip much to Rosario's mirth. "W-Well, how about you? I'm sure you have dreams of your own. What do you want to do?"

Rosario flashes her a look, a mere contemplation. By now, Brittany has recognized it as the brunette's way of thinking whether or not she should disclose something about herself.

"I don't have much of a choice. I have to take over the family business."

Brittany squints her eyes. "And that's what you want?"

Rosario smiles wordlessly, a look of weakness dawning on her.

Brittany wants to know more. Why? How? What secrets does Rosario have? She wants to know everything about the girl. But instead of scaring her off or have the brunette clam up on her, she changes the subject. "So, uhmm… How many places have you been to?" She gestures to the map.

"A lot." Rosario suggests. "All of the yellow ones and most of the blue pins here."

"Really? Wow, you're so lucky."

"O-Oh, yes. I suppose."

She smiles, reaching for an old, fat cat stuffed toy sitting below the map. "What's your favorite destination so far?"

Rosario thinks. "It's a tie between Thailand and Italy. They have such a rich history and culture in Asia but then again I love pizza."

"But I thought you're addicted to Domino's?"

"Britt, you're comparing diamonds to stones." Rosario jests, the laughter calming Brittany's being. "But of course, the most beautiful country is Spain, even more so when I'm in it."

"We're sensing a lot of bias and narcissistic tendencies there."

"' _We_ '?"

"Yeah, me and Lord Tubbington." Brittany teases, waving the stuffed toy's arms.

Rosario grins all dopey, deciding to play along as she bows her head slightly. "Hello there, Lord Tubbington. I am Rosario, your savior from your evil owner."

"Hey!" Brittany raises an eyebrow. "Lord Tubbington's a very good watch cat. Not once was I attacked by a monster under my bed."

"Ah, in that case. I'm quite pleased to meet your great acquaintance, Lord Tubbington."

"It's nice to meet you as well, fair maiden of yore." Brittany impersonates a male voice, moving the stuffed toy's body in exaggeration then resorts to laughing at herself.

Rosario grins, holding off Brittany's stare that could very well turn her legs into jelly. "I like you like this."

Brittany's eyebrows furrow. "Like what?"

"Just-" Rosario points to their surroundings and to her. "Just like this. Just Brittany."

Brittany can feel her heartbeat going faster with the way the brunette's brown orbs hypnotizes her into a trance. How could someone be so beautiful and so sweet and so mysterious and have such plump lips that she could not help staring at. She notices Rosario staring back at her with the same hunger in her eyes, delighting themselves in each other's company.

Robert Pierce opens the door and for a moment, a questioning glance passes his face upon seeing Rosario bolt upright from the bed. "Alright, ladies. We're preparing dinner right now and it'll be ready in half an hour." He starts with a proud grin. "So, Rosario, would ya like a tour of the farm? Maybe help us out tomorrow? It's a family affair."

"N-No, no. Dad, I'm not sure that's a good idea. It's Rosario's first time here in the countryside." Brittany interjects with a look at her father.

Rosario looks back at her, forehead creasing. "Oh, why not? Everyone helps out, including you, right?"

"Yes, why not, Britt-Britt?" Robert teases.

Brittany looks between Rosario and her father. "Yes, we all help out. B-But-" She sighs. "You know what, you should join us. I want to see this."

"Lovely." Rosario nods. "In the meantime, you'll have to excuse me. I would like to retreat to my room before dinner. Would you mind showing me my room, sir?" She addresses Robert.

"'Sir'? Whoa, I like you already, young lady! Right this way." He gestures to the room across Brittany's but not before throwing a playful glance at the blonde.

When they've gone, Brittany takes a seat on her bed and grabs a nearby pillow, pushing it against her face. She lets out a scream and lies down in exasperation thinking of nothing but those lips she would most certainly love to kiss.

* * *

 _So far, so good. Countryside in the United States of America isn't as bad as some people put on,_ Santana thinks.

She slept safe and sound, only awaken by the noisiest chickens she's ever heard in her entire life. She called Kurt to inform him she was still alive and that she saw a wild boar for the first time in her life yesterday. She had found the guest room's bed more comfortable than that of their godforsaken dorm room but the nearness of Brittany managed to keep her up for a while. Surely that woman cannot be as straight as an arrow. But all queer thoughts aside, she noticed that Brittany has been smiling more. There was something different about the blonde being at home, she thought. Lighter and uninhibited.

Various breakfast dishes greet them at the table. Robert, Susan, and Joe having just seated themselves turn to see her approaching the table. Brittany and Chris walk in mere seconds after her.

"Good morning, ma'am." Joe Pierce rises, motioning to a vacant seat next to him. She smiles but settles herself next to Brittany instead.

"Ha! Rejected!" Chris cuts in. "Now why donchoo git me a glass of warter while ya at it standing there, Joe?"

Santana freezes at the exchange, not entirely sure what Chris just said. She wonders why she didn't catch their accents the first time around. She addresses Brittany's parents, "Thank you again for letting me stay here, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce. I appreciate it."

The older woman blushes. "It's our pleasure to have ya here. Any friend of Brittany's is welcome in our home, right, Robert?"

"Of course! We're just glad our Brittany hasn't turned into a hermit with all her working day and night, _ya_ know. She gonna werk herself to death, she will!"

Santana blinks, turning to Brittany in confusion. For one thing, she can speak and understand several languages but she's not even sure if what she's heard is English. Or Elvish, for that matter.

"Just smile." Brittany whispers, clearly amused. Santana obliges, settling into a more comfortable position in her seat. She looks around the place and notices how humble the Pierces live. Everything from the Southern charm of old furniture, the deep porch welcoming the warm, humid air, and if her eyes don't deceive her, a cow chasing a goat out on the lawn.

"Now, before we eat, how about y'all say grace?" Susan suggests, leaning forward. "How about our guest do the honors?" She adds, everyone looking at Santana.

She blinks, at odds and confused on what to do. She thinks of a quick prayer but before she's able to speak, Brittany puts a hand over hers, a gentle smile thrown her way.

"Let's not scare Rosario now with the spotlight, shall we? I'll do it." Brittany offers, closing her eyes. She holds on to her mother's hand as she begins. Santana spectates, her eyes gravitating to Brittany's hand, now holding hers instead of being placed on top of it. She smiles to herself like a little girl, giggling internally at the sight of the cutest kid in school and developing an instant crush.

" _Amen."_ The others repeat, effectively taking Santana out of her little hallucination. A flash of disappointment sweeps her once Brittany lets go of her grip.

"Finally, food!" Chris shouts, grabbing a bowl of green vegetables toward him.

"Git yer dang act straight, Chris. We have a visitor." Joe seethes. He turns to Santana with an apologetic look. "You gotta excuse my li'l brother, ma'am."

"'Ma'am'? Oh, cut it out! Don't make Rosario uncomfortable!" Susan interjects, the brothers cowering under her stare. Santana smiles back at the matriarch, the attention rendering her unfazed.

Her gaze shifts to Brittany who seems to be comfortable with keeping silent and pre-occupied with eating, eyes steely-eyed and three shades darker than her usual ocean blues. What more, Santana glances down in surprise to see her plate filled with eggs, toast, and bacon.

"So, Rosario, where are ya from again?" Robert Pierce grins, reaching for the toast.

"O-Oh." She looks up like a deer caught in headlights, slowly getting the hang of the Southern accent now. "Spain."

Robert raises an eyebrow. "That is a long way from here, young lady. How did you end up here?"

"I'm an exchange student."

"Ah, coming to discover the Great America, huh?" Robert interjects. Santana decides against rebutting his statement.

"Where's Spain? My wife's always wanted to go there." Chris cuts in with a smile.

"Wife?" She finds herself saying. She stares at Chris's boyish child-like nature and wonders how young the man is.

"Yeah. Liddy. We got married when we _was_ eighteen. Childhood sweethearts." Chris proudly states. "She's over at her folks right now. Closer to her baby doctor's check-up for later, you know."

Santana subtly raises an eyebrow before she answers, astonished at the fact. She gets back on track. "Spain is in Europe. It's lodged between France and Portugal."

"Huh. What's it known for? Anyone famous from there that we know?" He follows up.

Brittany throws a stern look at her brother. "Chris…"

Santana glances at the blonde, letting Brittany know that it's alright. She gazes back at the others, Brittany included, who are patiently waiting for an answer. She puts down the cutlery and purses her lips.

"Paella, Sangria, and exquisite wines. There's Picasso and Salvador Dali for starters on artists. Hollywood-wise, then Antonio Banderas. Selma Hayek. Penelope Cruz. Javier Bardem. Rafael Nadal. Pau Gasol. Enrique Iglesias. Lionel Messi is Argentinian but he plays for Barcelona." Santana utters without missing a beat, proceeding to take a sip of milk as she watches everyone's jaw slack at the mention of such heavyweight names. She turns to the brothers. "Oh, we also have Blanca Padilla." She adds, grinning wide.

"The Victoria's Secret model?!" Joe exclaims in disbelief, sharing a look with Chris.

"The Victoria's Secret model." She repeats, nodding.

"What are you, a superpower?!" Chris exclaims, earning laughter from everyone at the table.

"Have you met any of them in person?" Susan inquires.

The question catches Santana off-guard. If she's going to be truthful, not only has she met all of them, a few of them are regular invitees to all of the Royal family's charity events.

She grins instead, shaking her head. "I've seen them around. I hear they are wonderful people."

The Pierces sans Brittany clamor at the fact. She resorts to smiling and ultimately catch the blonde's stare at her, as if being scrutinized. Santana winks and proceeds to start eating like the others. They proceed to eat in relative silence. If Santana didn't know any better, Brittany laid down guidelines for her family on how to act around her judging by the expressive glances the family shares between themselves while subtly gesturing towards her in an inquisitive way.

Santana catches on and initiates the conversation. "You must be proud of your daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce. She's one of the best dancers in school. In my opinion, the best, actually." She charms her way, casting a quick glance at a blushing Brittany.

"Very proud, Rosario. Why, she's the first in the family to go to college. Certainly the first to graduate!" Susan declares, looking at Brittany like a prized possession.

"We couldn't be more thrilled for her. She's going to do great things in her life! She may have lost the accent but she will always be our baby girl." Robert chimes in.

"Mom, Dad," Brittany pleads, her face turning into a shade of tomato.

"Oh come on now, sis. It's not every day Mom and Dad get to brag to your friend about being related to you. We've never met any of yer New York friends." Joe interjects, making a face at Brittany.

Santana's ears perk up, glancing at Brittany. "You've never brought Mercedes home?"

"No. You're the first one."

A grin creeps up on Santana's face. Unsure of whether to be proud of herself or crawl in the good kind of embarrassment to have been bestowed such honor. Or pleasure.

She continues to keep the conversation flowing, eager to get to know the family all the more now.

"You have such a huge and wonderful home here, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce. I've never been to a countryside farm like this before."

"Ah, thank you, Rosario. It's one of the biggest here in the county. They even put it on the paper!" Robert beams with pride then resolves to a small smile. "But it does come with its liabilities though."

Santana tilts her head in an curious manner, motioning for the man to continue.

Susan Pierce speaks up for them. "With a farm this huge, it's a real struggle to keep it afloat. There are times we fall back on the profit that we had to shell out our own just to keep it going. We even tried to get second jobs. Good Lord, don't get us started on minimum wage on top of that, right, boys?"

"Minimum wage?" Santana blinks, leaning forward to listen more attentively.

"Yes, ma'am, that bastardly minimum wage!" Chris rolls his eyes. "The big city's average income is around $10 an hour but in our part of town, we only get $8."

"That's on top of what the corporate farms get from us." Robert shakes his head, motioning for the bacon.

"Corporate farms? You've got more work?" Santana asks, deeply engrossed. She puts down the cutlery again. Such topic and hearing a commoner's side of the problem foreign to her.

Robert Pierce, manly as ever, leads the conversation. "We've got twenty-four hours of work here." He smiles dearly at his wife, placing eggs on her plate as he speaks. "See, Rosario, we've gotta work twice as hard as the corporate farms here just to stay afloat. At this rate, the family farm will be extinct in twenty years. And the minimum wage so insufficient to what a normal American family needs, it's harder for folks like us. What's a dollar or two more than the millions they earn per month, right?"

"Dad…" Brittany cuts him off with a sweet smile.

"Bob, no shop talk, remember?" Susan joins in.

"No, it's all right. I'm interested." Santana retorts, squeezing Brittany's hand in a quick motion. Everyone else continues to eat, seemingly used to Robert's story.

"Anyway, what the big heads over there need to understand is we're all interdependent. If somebody loses, eventually, everyone loses." Robert continues, shrugging. Santana nods gravely, bringing the words close to heart. Everyone sighs, keen on turning the sullen mood around.

"So, got a boyfriend back home or anything, Rosario?" Joe asks with a smirk directed at her. He receives a scathing stare from Brittany that makes him cower almost immediately. "What? I'm just curious, sis. She's too good-looking!"

"Someone had to ask, Britt." Chris cuts in, nodding agreeably.

"She is too good-looking. The accent adds more appeal if you combine it, I think. A lethal combination." Susan joins in with a laugh, looking to Robert who nods in a teasing manner at his daughter.

"Guys! Please stop!" Brittany gasps, holding a hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

Santana chuckles, casting an amused look at Brittany. "No, I don't have a boyfriend back home."

Joe's eyes widen. He presents himself with a bit more allure this time around. "How about in New _Yerk_? Not dating anyone?"

The question catches Brittany and Santana aback. Both of them subtly staring at the other for independent reasons. Brittany, unsure whether the brunette is still hell bound in winning Marley back. And Santana, unsure if being brought home to the blonde's family what will all the relentless teasing back in New York amounts to dating.

"No, I'm not." Santana answers. The words washes solace and a dash of hope in Brittany's mind.

"Really?" Joe exclaims, elated. "Beautiful gal like you has no boyfriend?"

"Joe, come on. It's none of our business." Brittany protests, eyebrow raised in annoyance.

Santana realizes in that moment that Brittany's family are clueless as to the nature of her sexuality. Perhaps they're uncomfortable? No, that must not be it. She looks briefly at Brittany who smiles softly at her. And then she becomes aware. Brittany didn't tell them because the blonde respects and holds her privacy in great regard. Going by the usual words she's heard countless times no matter who's involved, _"It's not my story to tell, Rosario."_

Santana smiles to herself, appreciating the small fact. It means a lot to her given that such privacy is a privilege scantily given to her back home.

Santana directs her gaze at Joe. Such a young, burly man who seems about to be a small town lothario by the looks of him, a Southern gentleman to the letter. She also catches the others' stare at her, clearly asking themselves the same question and waiting for an answer.

"I'm very single, and," She holds out then follows up with words she's used to sputtering by now, said each time with pride. "I'm gay."

A deafening silence occurs.

Joe turns red in shame. Chris stifles a laugh as he stares at his brother. Susan and Robert blink owlishly in unison then at each other. Brittany pretends to eat. Santana watches all of them, amused.

And then in a split second, the Pierce family's mood shifts from shocked to elated surprise. Wide eyes, rapid blinking, a slight hint of smile. They all look up to stare at Brittany, then Santana. Brittany. Santana. Brittany. Santana. Enough times to give them whiplash when both women finally catch up to what they're thinking.

Brittany speaks first, hands up in defense. "Oh. No! W-We're not- I didn't bring her home to- Rosario and I aren't-" The blonde finds herself blanking, cheeks blushing up to the back of her ears.

Santana holds herself back from laughing like Chris. She cracks a smile, remaining calm and unmoved. "Brittany and I aren't dating. I'm not dating anyone. She's not dating anyone. We are both single."

The statement brews more confusion than explanation. Chris finally lets go of the laughter he's been holding with the others eventually joining in. Joe shakes his head and briefly apologizes to Santana about his being intrusive of her romantic life. Although his eyes were directed more at Brittany rather than her.

The laughter dies down after a while, everyone resorting to lighthearted conversation. Santana listens attentively, contributing stories in between bites of splendid food, completely and happily aware of Brittany's fond stare and beautiful smile boring into her the whole time.

* * *

Brittany has made peace with the fact that Rosario makes her feel things that no one has ever had before. She's known for a few days now that she's feeling herself falling and falling. Coming to terms with it has been a struggle in itself, what more saying it out loud for everyone to hear.

She ponders in her own little world as she watches her brothers, sister-in-law, and father hound a confused but amused Rosario over the farm animals while setting up the picnic table.

"Everyone likes her. Your brothers are very fond of her." Susan Pierce murmurs, following Brittany's stare.

Brittany chuckles. "Yeah, they certainly do."

Susan throws her a meaningful look. "She's a nice girl. I understand how you'd bring her home."

"She was the one who gave me the ticket home. It was the least I could do."

"Mm-hmm…"

Brittany purses her lips, busying herself. She casts a quick sidelong glance at her mother. "What is it?"

Susan shrugs. "Nothing."

"If this is about her being gay-"

"Sweetie, we don't give a damn about that as long as she respects our home and family."

"What is it then?" Brittany snaps back.

Susan sighs, smiling timidly. "I've never seen you look so- So smitten."

Brittany's eyebrow furrows, exhibiting a cold demeanor. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"Honey, we've all seen the way you look at each other-"

"M-Mom, it's not like that-" She argues, feeling cornered.

Susan walks across, grabbing her daughter's arms to face her. "Brittany, calm down."

Brittany mirrors the apprehension. She thinks back on all those moments when she almost told her mother about certain growing feelings inside her, _different_ feelings that she wasn't supposed to feel for girls in their small town. She looks back on those sweet moments, hopeful that those little kind and knowing hints that her parents and brothers have dropped whenever a mention of anything queer or _different_ was brought up were directed at her. She thinks back, looks back why she never thought that _maybe_ her family doesn't think badly of _different_ people like their godforsaken town who hates the idea of it. The idea of being _different_.

"M-Mom, I think I have something to tell you." Brittany leads, nervous out of her wits. "Can we sit?"

Susan nods, following Brittany's actions. They face each other. Brittany fidgets with her hands, unable to let out the words. Susan speaks up, smiling softly.

"Is this about Rosario?"

Brittany shoots her mother an inquisitive glance then retreats back to fidgeting. She nods in a defeated manner. "We've only known each other for a few months but she's different, I've never met someone like her." She smiles then builds up the strength to look directly at her mother.

"Rosario makes me feel things I've never felt for anyone before. Men. Or women." She adds, the last word a mere whisper. She expected for her mother to lash out, to tell her that the Lord would punish her for being indecent, spew out redundant teachings that their church had been teaching the whole town all her life.

But nothing comes. Instead, Susan grins and reaches for her hand.

"Oh, my baby. We've always known." Susan utters with clear pride and conviction.

"Y-You have?"

"Ever since you were eight, I think. Young girls your age back then were head over heels for Justin Timberlake or Tom Cruise. But you, honey," She pauses. "you didn't give a rat's ass about those men. Your eyes were on Britney Spears and Madonna. It wasn't admiration in your eyes either."

Brittany blinks rapidly, sitting more upright. "You've always known?" She says, still in disbelief.

Susan nods. " _We_ have. We didn't want to rush you or pressure you into coming out. God knows how much of a struggle it was just for you alone." She squeezes Brittany's hand. "So, we were just waiting. And I'm so glad you did. I've never been more proud of you."

Brittany breathes the deepest sigh of relief she could muster. She leans her back against the chair, letting out a sigh again as if the whole world was relieved off her shoulders.

"Thank you, mom. That means so much to me." She smiles. "Who else knows aside from us?"

"Just our family, Britt. And it's going to stay that way if that's what you want. Anyone who talks crap about it can go to hell anyway."

Brittany chuckles, leaning forward. "Mom, I don't care if the whole town finds out. All that matters to me is that you guys know now and I don't have to hide it anymore."

Susan nods and sighs contentedly. "Anyway, tell me everything about Rosario. Have long have you been together?"

Brittany blushes. "We're not together, Mom. We're not even dating. I don't think she knows how I feel about her or that I'm err- g-gay." She stutters on the last word, it being foreign to her. But nevertheless feels liberated for saying it out loud for the first time.

Susan smirks. "Oh sweetie, I don't know about that. Rosario seems to me a real smart woman. She knows more than you think she does. She's not hiding what she feels, if you look a little closer."

"What? What do you mean?" Brittany inquires. She looks up just in time to see Rosario gazing back at her. The brunette waves, grinning. Brittany returns the gesture.

"You'll see soon enough." Susan smiles. "In the meantime, tell me everything from the start."

* * *

Before today, Santana did not know that cows could run. Before today, she had never known her threshold for pain and tiredness. Before today, she had never sworn so much her entire life that her mother would disown her for such obscenity. She's never seen a tractor before, for crying out loud!

For the first time in her entire life, she's truly out of her comfort zone.

Santana catches up on her breathing after helping the Pierces milk the cows that almost killed her in the barn. She sits on the grass overlooking the broad field. She wipes off the sweat forming on her forehead.

"Hey, you okay?" Brittany asks, settling beside her on the ground and handing her a clean towel.

"Y-Yes. I am." She retorts, taking the towel and cleaning up herself. "Don't they ever get tired of running around and doing all the work here?"

Brittany chuckles. "We're used to it."

Santana frowns. She doesn't have an inkling of what life has been like for Brittany and her family enough to make a comment.

"You know, my family is very fond of you." Brittany continues, grin in place.

"Are they now?"

"Yeah. Mom said you look like a supermodel."

"So do you." Santana counters, smirking. Brittany falters, blushing in her gaze. "For what it's worth, I'm quite fond of your family as well. All of you are so close to each other, it's a marvel."

Brittany stares quizzically at her, obvious wondering drawn up in her expression in bouts of indecisiveness for action. Santana catches on to the dilemma and contemplates for a minute or two. As far as she's known Brittany, the girl has never been one to spill out stories about other people or gossip at all. The blonde has been respectful of her privacy and to be fair, truthful about her life and her family's state of living, even proud of how her family works hard for it. So, she thinks, why not relent? Perhaps be honest to some degree about her identity?

Santana takes a deep breath, placing both hands behind her to sit in a more comfortable position. "I won't lash out on you if you ask me about my life, you know."

Brittany's eyebrows shoot up. "O-Oh. Was I that obvious?"

She shrugs. "Little bit."

Brittany chuckles, slouching. "You're so private and mysterious that I wouldn't want to offend you by asking questions you didn't want to answer from someone you barely know."

"I'm certain we're past the point of 'barely know', Britt."

"Well, there are some things I'd like to know about you."

"Like what?"

Brittany shrugs. "Don't know. Did you have a pet growing up?"

"I have a horse. His name is Prince and he's still alive." She utters without missing a beat.

Brittany blinks, taken aback by Santana's nonchalant demeanor. "When I said pet, my initial thought was that of a small animal. But I got a horse named Prince." She reiterates, chuckling. "Where did you get him?"

Santana laughs. "I'm an equestrian, Brittany. My father gave it to me when I was seven as a birthday gift. And he's named Prince because, well, as a princ-" She cuts her herself off, biting her lip then picks up on her gaffe. "Because I thought, as a lady and being gay and all, I might as well have a prince for once in my life, even in name. My brother thinks it's witty."

Brittany snorts at the statement, playing with the hem of her jeans. "I'm not sure I should be surprised about the fact that you're an equestrian though. With all your theatrics, you have to give me something more."

"Hmm… If you must know, I was in the army. I mean, I _am_."

Brittany's eyes widen. "Wait, what? Army?!"

Santana nods. "Yes. I have undergone training when I was eighteen. It's sort of… _required_. At least, for my family."

Brittany looks at her in disbelief. "That's crazy, Rosario! I never thought that- well,-" The blonde gestures to her in a questioning manner.

"Because I don't look like it?" She fills in then chuckles. "There's a whole lot you don't know about me, Brittany Susan."

"So it seems." Brittany shakes her head, disbelieving. "S-So, you mentioned that you have a brother." She leads shyly. Santana nods as a gesture for the blonde to continue. "Is he younger or older? Do you have a sister?"

Santana shakes her head. "Only a younger brother. He's twelve."

"Ah. Then Mercedes and Sugar have no chance whatsoever." Brittany jests, a slight Southern accent slipping through for a quick second. Santana chuckles. "Are you close with your brother, Rosario?"

"I am. Next to Brad, my closest relationship is with him."

"What's his name? What's he like?"

Santana falters. She notices Brittany perceiving her initial worried reaction but decides that giving a name, whom millions have a similar one in Spain, wouldn't hurt.

"Diego." She says. "Diego is a mature kid with an old soul. You two would get along pretty well."

Brittany nods and draws in a deep breath. "And your parents? Are you close with them?"

Santana sighs, looking once again at the clouds. "To some degree."

She feels Brittany's stare burning a hole on her face. And when that ceased, she feels Brittany squeezing her hand.

"You can tell me." Brittany offers with genuine affection. Santana smiles gently. Oh, how much she wants to just speak the truth and tell Brittany everything about her. If only she can. She treads with great care.

"As I've told you before, my parents have a hard time grasping my sexuality. But it's not just that they're traditional. I-" She breathes deeply. "My family is a prominent one in Spain, Brittany. Our movements generate a lot of talk in certain circles and I'm a bit of a wild card back home. I disappear during important events, hide from the public, and at one point, have ran away to another country to attend a party just so I don't have to face everyone else back home. That kind of attitude- It creates a lot of complications."

Brittany nods in understanding. "Because of the family business?"

Santana smiles, the pain apparent in her eyes. "Yes. The family business. I'm set to take over seeing that I'm the eldest child. It's an extremely huge responsibility, one that I've been groomed for since I was a child, almost as if the whole world's eyes are upon me once I take the stage."

"And you really have no choice at all about this family business?"

"I'm afraid I don't." She nods to herself. "I've already made my peace with it. If there's anything I'm thankful for, it's the fact that the responsibility falls on me and not my brother. I wouldn't want him to go through the same things I did just to prepare for my dictated future."

Brittany frowns. "I'm sorry, Rosario."

Santana fights the urge to let out a breath. How she wanted Brittany to say her real name instead of the false identity she's been building up these past two months. How she wanted to just shed off everything and start fresh with Brittany about her real self. She smiles instead, like she always does. To fight the pain, the sorrow, and the frustrations she's learned over the years to compartmentalize.

"Do you miss home?" Brittany asks out of the blue, eyes on the green fields.

"Not really. Do you? When you're not here?"

"If you take my family out of the equation, not at all. Does that make me a bad person? For not wanting to go back to this small town if it weren't for my family?"

She watches Brittany's demeanor, that usual doubtful glance she's used to seeing back in New York return for a moment. She's sure that the blonde is one of those small town hopefuls that's been told _"You're a star!"_ or _"You're a big fish in a small pond, go out there and be successful!"_. And in all honesty, Brittany is all that and more.

"No. You made the right choice." She declares. Brittany squints her eyes. "Leaving this small town, I mean. I know you have your doubts every now and then but your feelings should be validated that you made the right choice to leave for greener pastures, for that bigger pond. You have the world at your feet, Brittany."

Brittany smiles, the kind that reaches her eyes. "Thank you."

Santana grins, hoping to lighten up the mood. "Have we covered a few grounds now to truly qualify past 'barely know' friends?"

"Maybe. When's your birthday-"

"Okay, now we have finally crossed the line." Santana acts offended. Brittany laughs, playfully slapping her on the arm.

"It's every Valentine's Day." Santana retorts. "Alright then. Now, have we?"

"Yes, we're officially past 'barely know' friends. Now I won't feel like I'm working with a serial-killer-in-hiding behind the bar every night."

"You can hide it all you want but I know deep inside that you're as fond of me as your family is with yours truly." Santana teases, inching closer to Brittany but stops the action almost immediately. "Oh, sorry. I forgot you're a bit touchy on matters of the heart. Even the ones made in jest."

Brittany blushes, the pinking color reaching the tip of her ears in an instant. A short comfortable silence ensues until Brittany speaks up.

"Rosario?"

"Hmm?" Santana turns to face the blonde, blue steely eyes gazing at her very soul.

"I think you may be right about that."

"About what?"

"That part where I'm fond of you."

Santana stares back inquisitively. "Yes, that's what I said-"

"No, Rosario." Brittany sighs, turning her body to face Santana. The blonde looks about to gather all her strength. "I- W-What I meant is that, I _am_ fond of you. Romantically speaking t-that, I like you."

Santana blinks. She feels her heartbeat pick up the pace, her brain initializing at the sudden influx of information. She's never been convinced that Brittany is _that_ straight. It's not that she didn't expect it. But still, she's relieved that in one way or the other, her growing feelings have been reciprocated.

"Please say something." Brittany's voice breaks her off her trance. She zeroes in on the blonde and sees overwhelming worry written in her expression. Santana reaches for Brittany's hand and holds it in hers. Then, she grins in the most genuine way possible.

"Romantically speaking, I like you too, Brittany." Santana declares just as Brittany lets go of the breath she's been holding. She remains speechless. Her eyes zone in on Brittany's lips, deciding to move about in a slow, painful manner. The blonde catches on to her actions and without hesitation, closes the gap between them with brazen hunger.

It was one kiss. And in that moment, Santana finally understood what the songs were about, what the poems meant, what the pictures of passion portrayed. She's finally come to know that it's always been Brittany from the start, her emotions blatantly misplaced and acted on the wrong person, the wrong woman. Oh, what a fool she's been to having acknowledge it only now.

It's always been Brittany.

* * *

 **You'll be happy to know that the next chapter is 50% finished. So, yep, definitely an update this Saturday :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Better late than never :) Thanks for the reviews! I love getting them! :)**

 **Smut may or may not ensue.**

* * *

Two days later and Santana still thinks about _that_ kiss constantly. The fluttering feeling of Brittany's soft lips grazing against hers continues to emanate throughout out her body until now.

Nothing changed much in the way they interacted after that kiss. All Santana felt was a shift in the air, she felt being drawn further into the marvel that is Brittany Pierce. The Pierces didn't really hide much of their enthusiasm at the sudden turn of events, a thing which Brittany filled her in on her coming out the day before.

Before they knew it, the whole weekend getaway was over. Kurt fetched her the night of their kiss, the night before Brittany's set to fly back alone to New York. A tinge of disappointment was certainly in the books for that one, not for _intimate_ reasons but for simply wanting to be in the blonde's company as much as she can. She's only had a single kiss, one addicting sensation that she'd want to repeat over and over and something she can definitely get used to. By the time Santana had met Kurt's charming and wonderful father, a man so sure of himself that didn't leave any doubt as to why Kurt is an amazing man, she couldn't pay attention to anything but the thoughts of Brittany on her mind.

They arrived in New York early yesterday. Instead of going home to their wretched dorm room, Kurt kept his promise about their new living quarters: A high-end, state of the art penthouse in the Upper West Side, a couple of blocks from school. Aside from the fancy apartment, Kurt reinstated her control of her finances and most of the perks associated with the title, even a limousine ready at her disposal.

"Would you prefer daisies or tulips?" Kurt greets her, motioning to a vase adjacent to the door as she enters their penthouse.

"Peonies."

"I knew that but I was hoping you'd say tulips. Oh well." He crosses the threshold to the living room. "So, how was your day?"

"So-so. I finally quit my job at the bar. I think Ken was more grateful than anything." She retorts, sitting on the couch.

"You broke an average of two glasses per night you worked there and offended most of his customers. Relief would be an understatement."

Santana smirks, waving a hand in disregard. "So, how was your weekend with your father? He's quite the charming gentleman."

"It was good. He's still the same old person who thinks a Croque Madame is a person. I'm glad I was able to visit him after almost three years. I missed that old man." He chuckles.

"Maybe you should visit him more often."

"I don't know about that. It's nice and I love my dad but with my job and life in Spain, I really can't make spontaneous trips and leave you alone."

"Come on, Hummel. We both know that's poppycock. What's the real reason?"

Kurt regards her then sighs. "You know that I always had dreams of a Broadway career before I came to work for you, right?"

Santana nods.

"Well, I feel that my father is still disappointed in me for not pursuing that. He doesn't have to say it but sometimes I can see it in his eyes. It makes visiting him a little harder than it should be."

"But he seemed really proud of you, Kurt. He wouldn't stop talking about you."

"I know. And maybe he's over it. I guess the thought haunts me even when it's over and done."

"Do you regret it? Do you regret working for me and moving to Madrid?" Santana offers a smile.

Kurt smiles then shakes his head, a look of sibling-like affection taking over his features as he stares at Santana. "Not even one bit, Your Highness."

Santana grins, not needing words to share the same heartfelt fondness for her assistant.

"Anyway, enough of this drama." Kurt waves a hand in disregard. "Have I mentioned that I invited our friends to dinner tonight?"

Santana nods.

"Great. So, how was your weekend with the Pierces?"

"I've already told you. I helped out on their farm and got to know her family. I saw a lot of animals." She utters, relaxing more on the couch.

"That's it? Any developments with this Brittany expedition?"

"Kurt, you make it sound like I'm off to kill her on some James Bond mission." Santana smirks. "And even if there were any 'developments', I wouldn't tell you. It's private."

"Private, my ass." Kurt retorts, grinning devilishly. "So, something did happen on the farm?" He pauses to reflect on his words and makes a displeased face. "God, that doesn't sound right. Those are poor choice of words."

" _You're_ a poor choice of words."

Kurt rolls his eyes and motions for Santana to continue. The brunette sighs.

"I would not like to kiss and tell. I'm a respectable lady, Kurt. A modern gentlewoman."

"Woman, yes. Gentle? You taught your horse to hurl dirt at unwanted guests on command. And modern? You thought Instagram was a brand of refrigerator and Vine was a fruit. Don't humor me, Princess." Kurt laughs out loud in a mocking manner. Santana grits her teeth, clearing her throat to make her assistant stop howling in laughter.

"I'll teach Prince to kick you in the groin and stomp on your face next." She shakes her head. Kurt shrugs, still amused. He moves on to surveying the window drapes and bookcases before speaking again with his back to the Princess.

"Anyway, don't make yourself too comfortable here. We wouldn't want ourselves to get too attached."

Santana squints her eyes. "Whatever do you mean?"

He peeks over his shoulder. "We are not going to stay here forever. I recommend keeping some distance."

"B-But that doesn't-" She stops herself. "Brittany is special to me, Kurt. I cannot just up and leave and go back to Spain like nothing happened."

"Are you saying that you're planning to tell Brittany?"

"W-Well, I- I don't know. I've never thought about it."

Kurt breathes deeply and settles himself beside Santana on the couch. "All I'm saying is don't get too close. You will only end up hurting Brittany and also make a fool of yourself. This is not our home."

"What if I want to stay here and tell Brittany everything?" Santana snaps back. "It's not as if we'll depart tomorrow and leave all of this behind. I trust her and she would not tell a single soul about us if we were to tell the truth."

"And I believe you." Kurt sighs. "Look, this is coming from me as your friend: Don't tell Brittany the truth. She may not take it well that you lied to her for months and that won't do us any good."

"But Brittany's different, Kurt. The friends we made are good people."

Kurt holds her stare for a moment then lets out a deep breath, assuming his professional stance that Santana immediately notices. "Your Highness, I can't allow you to do that."

Santana grits her teeth, feelings of anger slowly creep in. She gets up from the couch. "This is my life, Kurt. What I do is not up to you or- or my family! I am my own person now!"

"I'm sorry, Santana. I-"

The sound of knocking interrupts them. They look at each other for a moment, taking the time to breathe and calm down from their respective ill temper. They have been on several fights before although none are as personal as this one.

Santana throws Kurt one last glare before speaking. "That's Brittany. She wanted to discuss something in private so I told her to come here. Can you please get the door?"

Kurt nods, bowing his head slightly. He trudges to the front door while Santana helps herself to a cup of tea on the coffee table. Kurt opens the door with a flaccid smile on his face. "Britt! Come on in, please."

"Hey, Brad, Rosario." Brittany responds, her smile growing a bit more when she says the brunette's name. Her eyes instantly rove around the penthouse in astonishment as she enters. "Wow! You guys weren't kidding about moving to a fancier place."

"A-Ah yes." Kurt retorts. He looks behind him to see Santana still harboring resentment behind those brown eyes. He adds, "I'm going to the flower shop. Anything else you would like me to pick up on my way there?"

Santana shakes her head. "Only the favor that I asked you to call in."

"Of course." Kurt bows his head then retreats back almost immediately when he sees Brittany looking back and forth between them in an inquisitive manner.

"Are you guys okay? I'm going to be honest, I heard shouting just as I was knocking." Brittany nervously chuckles.

"A-Ah… We're okay. Just some friendly argument, you know how it is." Kurt fills in, grinning. He casts a glance toward Santana's way, wordlessly communicating in their own little way that there's a lot more to be discussed after from their argument. He adds before withdrawing, "Anyway, I'll leave you two alone now. See you later, Britt."

Brittany nods, smiling. When Kurt has gone, a comfortable silence ensues. Santana watches the woman in front of her, looking around with wonder in her eyes as if having just been welcomed into a new world. And she supposes, having seen the Pierce farm and their humble way of living, that everything is truly foreign to Brittany. What more if the blonde were to see the Palace back in Madrid?

"Would you like some tea or coffee, Britt?" Santana inquires, her voice startles Brittany out of her trance.

"O-Oh. Tea is fine." Brittany grins nervously, fidgeting with her hands.

Santana nods, pouring one for the girl. She looks up after a moment to see Brittany still standing by the door, anxiously staring back at her.

"Are you alright? You look so tense. Come sit with me." She offers the spot beside her on the couch. The blonde nods frantically and complies without fuss.

* * *

Brittany can't help but smile through her nervousness whenever she glances toward Rosario's way.

Their weekend may have come and gone but the fluttering sensation at the pit of her stomach when she thinks of a certain brunette has yet to go away. Oh, and that kiss. Certainly that kiss! The mere memory of it makes Brittany's legs go weak, her heart beat faster, her lips quiver. Kissing Rosario was the best thing she's ever done in a genuinely long while. And now, looking beside her and Rosario peering into her with the same glee of being in each other's company, it creates a feeling that Brittany can't discern but overwhelms her entire being.

"So, how was the rest of your weekend?" Rosario starts, smile ever so charming.

"It was great. My family was a bit disappointed you left too soon. We had a nice dinner and they didn't let me do any work until I left the next morning."

"Ah, good, good."

"How about your dinner with Brad and his dad?"

"It was great. His father was a joy to be around. Something you wouldn't expect from Brad." Rosario jokes.

They resort to a comfortable silence while drinking their tea. Brittany gathers up the strength and organizes the thoughts going haywire in her mind. She bites her lip, knowing that the main reason she asked Rosario to talk would have to be discussed with everyone sooner or later.

"Rosario, I need your advice about something."

"What is it?"

Brittany takes a deep breath. "I want to come out to my friends."

The brunette regards her, putting down the cup of tea. "I see. How can I be of help?"

"W-Well, I-" She bites her lower lip. "How did you tell your friends?"

Rosario hesitates, pursing her lips. "I haven't yet. My family and Brad are the only ones who know."

"O-Oh, I'm sorry-"

The brunette waves a hand. "When are you planning to come out exactly?"

"Today. This afternoon. Well, right after this. I told them to meet up with me at the bar in an hour. Oh my god, I don't know what I'm going to do." She rambles in a panic, slapping a hand to her forehead and looking every bit nervous to her core.

Rosario chuckles, scooting closer to Brittany and rubbing her arms for comfort. The brunette smiles when Brittany comes down from her agitation, sighing deeply with eyes locked on the ground.

"Hey, Britt," Rosario starts. She moves her hands up to Brittany's face and lifts it to face her brown orbs, her thumb brushing slightly on the blonde's cheek. "It will be alright. Your friends love you. They will accept you, corny jokes and all."

Brittany can't help but chuckle. She grins, inching closer to the brunette for want to be nothing but near to her. "Okay. Can you do something for me though?"

"Anything."

"Will you walk me to the bar? Just you know, for support. I might turn back at the last minute if I do it alone."

Rosario nods frantically. "Of course. I have to follow Brad to the flower shop to make sure he won't get tulips anyway." She pauses. "I'll be with you every step of the way, Britt."

"Thank you, Rosario. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Oh, a lot. If anything, I became a hindrance to your life ever since that time you threw wine on my face." Rosario smirks, her red lips becoming as visible as blood in the snow. Brittany's eyes focus on those plump red lips, her thirst to taste them again rising with every second she's closer to the brunette.

"I missed you." Brittany spews out accidentally. She internally cringes at the slip but holds back on showing any emotion which eventually turns into a look of constipation.

A smile creeps in on Rosario's face, one of rare origins that Brittany's come to know now. A smile of pure happiness, of blissful contentedness. The brunette's hands move downward, making their place on Brittany's waist.

"You did?" Rosario's grin becoming wider by the second.

Brittany shyly nods her head, biting her lip. She lets herself be pulled into Rosario's arms. "I know it's pathetic to say that but I really did."

"It's not. Because I missed you too."

Brittany's heart leaps, almost combusting of sheer joy. A tiny squeal erupts from her throat, not loud enough for Rosario to hear but certainly audible for Brittany to be embarrassed. A soft pink hue spreads on her cheek, going all the way to the tip of her ears. A wide grin that reaches her eyes takes over her features.

"C-Cool." She mutters, averting her gaze.

The words elicit a light chuckle from Rosario who only holds her tighter. Further, the brunette holds her by the chin to face her, hungry eyes directed downwards. Rosario leans in and brushes her lips against Brittany's. The blonde reciprocates by deepening the kiss, pressing her lips harder against Rosario's.

Rosario pulls away first. A small whimper escapes Brittany's mouth, along with a surge of disappointment for the moment cut too soon.

"We'll get to more of that later." Rosario smirks. "For now, you have to meet your friends."

Brittany bites her lip, pouting. "You're right."

Rosario snorts, takes a deep breath, and produces that stunning smile that makes Brittany's legs go jelly. "One more for the road?"

The blonde nods, taking the initiative to kiss Rosario this time. When they pull apart, Brittany intertwines their hands together, almost like reflex, as they walk in bliss out of the apartment and into the busy streets of New York.

* * *

Brittany takes a deep breath to shake off her nerves. And then another.

She looks up and meets her friends' stare as they sit around one of the bar tables, congregated for what seems like an important meeting.

"Uhmm… Britt," Mercedes speaks up. "you're scaring us. Is this about Brad and Rosario inviting us over for dinner? What's on your mind?"

"Yeah, Britt. You're not sick, are you?" Tina chimes in with concern.

"You're dying?!" Sugar inquires, eyebrows furrowing.

"N-No, no! I-I…" She cuts herself off. Her eyes wander to side where just her luck, an encouraging message from Rosario pops up on her phone by the table. She smiles to herself, closes her eyes, and takes one last deep breath.

"I'm gay." Brittany utters. Clear, concise, and with utmost conviction.

She opens her eyes after a moment and looks at her friends. As expected, surprise is apparent in their reaction. They sit there with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Much like how her parents reacted when they thought she brought home Rosario as her _girlfriend_ to meet them. But then, there's a shift. They start smiling at her, almost coy, as they relax against their seats.

"We know." Mercedes utters, smirking.

"Y-You do?" Brittany retorts, now she's the one with surprise written all over her face.

"Since that time we first went clubbing. We kept on checking out cute boys while your eyes were wandering all over the ladies." Mercedes continues with a matter of fact tone. Brittany stares open-mouthed.

"Yes, girl. I knew like, the first month of college." Tina joins in.

Brittany shakes her head in confusion. She wonders what makes it all so obvious to other people that it only comes off as a surprise to her alone.

"And Sugar? You knew too?" She says.

"I saw you checking me out first week of college." Sugar declares with enough confidence to last a lifetime. "You're hot, Britt. But I love _dem_ dicks." She adds, eliciting laughter from everyone.

Brittany resorts to a lazy grin. She feels like a big weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She feels like a fool for thinking that her friends wouldn't accept her, or shun her! _Such a fool._

"Okay, I'm not sure about that, Sugar. Let's not get into that." She comments, raising a hand in defense. The others chuckle. "B-But how did you guys _know_?"

Tina shrugs. "I thought it was obvious, Britt. All the good-looking guys in college would throw themselves at you and you won't even give a damn at all. You were always making up excuses about dating men in particular that I eventually realized that you weren't attracted to them at all."

"And the thing about you being so defensive and evasive of anything that involves talking about your relationships and just sexuality in general." Mercedes adds.

"And bitch, the way you linger when there's a pretty girl in sight." Sugar interjects, earning approval from the others.

"Yeah, especially that last one." Tina chuckles. "Sweetie, you check all the ladies out like there's no tomorrow."

Brittany blinks, feeling bombarded. "T-Then why didn't you tell me?"

"We drop hints all the time, Britt." Mercedes says. "Like that time we went to that gay club."

"Or when I told you Marley's single." Tina offers. "Or Rosario."

Brittany squints her eyes at them.

Her friends look at each other prior to speaking. Mercedes leads, "B, we've been trying to get you two together from the very start. We were as _shook_ as you when Marley beat you to it."

"W-What?"

Sugar sighs, purses her lips in a pitiful way. "Honey, let's put it this way," She pauses for dramatic effect. "We were pimping you out, hoping you and Rosario would defile each other."

Tina and Mercedes gawk at Sugar. Brittany stays motionless.

Sugar shrugs indifferently. "Asperger's."

Mercedes shakes her head in disregard then addresses Brittany again. "But that was just us shipping you two. We know you and Rosario are just close friends. But I still encouraged you to invite Rosario- Wait," The brunette narrows her eyes, scrutinizing Brittany in her gaze. "You're hiding something from us."

Brittany turns away, making a disgusted face as she tries her hardest not to look at her friends. "Wha- I-I'm not hiding anything."

"Britt, we can smell gossip from a mile away. Spill it!" Tina utters seriously.

Brittany sighs, breaking into a smile then gently shakes her head. The others remain skeptical for a few seconds before letting it go.

"Thank you, girls." Brittany utters, reaching for their hands. "Your support, my family's support... It means so much to me. Thank you."

"We love you just the same, Britt." Tina responds. Mercedes nods, smiling all dopey and squeezing her hand.

"Okay, now we can legally pimp you out to the lesbians." Sugar breaks the silence, earning rapturous groans from the others.

* * *

"Hi, Brad!" Brittany greets upon being ushered inside their lavish apartment. Her eyes dance around the space again, feeling suddenly conscious of her every movement.

"Wow, this is some fancy crib you've got here!" Mercedes chimes in. Tina and Sugar walk in silence, preferring to let their eyes roam.

"Oh, come in, come in. Welcome to our new home, ladies!" He echoes, shutting the door behind them. He gathers their coats and prepares to address them again. "Now the dining room is over that corner," He points to the left. "and if anyone needs anything, don't hesitate to ask, alright? Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just have to grab the dinner from the oven and hang these. Rosario will be right down." He adds, darting off.

The four of them glance around in silence. Their 'dystopian' apartment, as Rosario calls it, looks like a monkey's ass compared to this one. There's a grand piano in the middle of the living room, floor to ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. The smell of vanilla circulating around. An oak coffee table that costs more than her yearly tuition. Everything screams rich and fine taste.

"Girl, that Ching Ling Ling vase costs more than my life." Mercedes gestures to the object.

"It's a _Ming_ vase, Cedes." Tina corrects her, laughing.

The faint sound of footsteps coming from the second floor of the penthouse resonates in the apartment. Shortly, Rosario, dressed in a simple sweatshirt and jeans, descends from the stairs. The image of the woman immediately bringing a smile to Brittany's face. The brunette grins all dopey at the sight of her.

"Hey." Rosario utters, addressing no one in particular. "What are you guys doing there? Dinner's ready."

The women are taken out of their trance and in a minute or two settle themselves in the dining area. Without prompt, Rosario sits beside Brittany, subtly brushing her hand with a knowing look.

"Ah, good. Everyone's seated. And so, dinner's served." Brad declares, setting down the most scrumptious home-cooked Italian dinner Brittany has ever seen in her life.

"You made all of these, Brad?" Brittany asks, eyes widening.

"Yes. Rosario helped with the pasta and picking out a wine but everything is by yours truly." Brad grins. "Shall we dig in?"

Everyone nods, proceeding to delight themselves in the delicious food. In between bites of pasta and meatballs, Brittany giggles all throughout dinner while playing footsie with Rosario under the table.

There's something she can't place about being in the same space as the brunette. It makes her smile wider at the sight of Rosario looking back at her with the most beautiful brown eyes she's ever seen. It makes her heart skip a beat every time Rosario smiles her way with those plump lips she'd most certainly like to kiss over and over again. Rosario makes her feel like no other _._ Rosario makes her feel as if she's the only person who matters. Rosario makes her feel that she could just _be._

"So, we heard you quit your job at Ken's, Rosario. Is everything alright?" Mercedes inquires halfway to the dinner, getting both women out of their little bubble.

Rosario's eyebrows furrow. "Where did you get that information?"

"We have ears everywhere." Sugar speaks up. "We're like, campus NSA."

"Better than the NSA. They don't even know the half of it, girl." Mercedes follows, giving everyone an approving look.

"You should work for them." Rosario chuckles. "And to answer your question, yes, everything's alright. I felt that it was time to move on and focus on my studies."

"Such a shame. From what I heard, ever since you worked there the number of guys who ordered from the bar doubled! It's like you're some kind of magnet! Right, Britt?" Mercedes utters.

"A-Ah, yeah." Brittany smiles a forced one.

"Don't be too sad, Britt. I'm going to be joining you at the bar this Friday. My other job didn't pan out." Tina pouts.

Brittany squints her eyes. "What other job?"

"Oh, I was supposed to have this waitressing job. It's like, really high society." Tina leans forward, eyebrows raised. "They're so tight with kitchen help security, I didn't even pass their standards."

"Wait," Mercedes cuts in. "what is this? I think I've heard about it somewhere."

"Tina told Marley and Marley told you, dummy." Sugar utters with a deadpan look.

Tina and Mercedes ignore Sugar. Brittany's stare remains on them, still at a loss. Her eyes flicker to Brad and Rosario and see them sharing a knowing look.

"The one at the MET." Tina answers. "Apparently, celebrities and politicians will be there. Even a few royals, from what I've heard. Don't tell anyone but I saw Prince William and Kate Middleton on the guest list!"

"Woah, girl. That's crazy! We were just talking last week about William being my soulmate. Who else will be there?" Mercedes inquires further.

"I don't know but it's a black tie event. I only saw a few names of royal invitees." Tina replies then focuses her attention on Brad and Rosario. "Speaking of, I didn't know you had royals in Spain!"

By now, Rosario and Brad's faces are as white as paper. Brittany's forehead creases, a lingering thought passes at the back of her mind, the memory of Rosario teaching her the princess painting not too long ago. Maybe they're anti-royal establishment like some people are split into Republicans and Democrats.

"Y-Yes. We do." Brad utters with apparent nervousness.

Tina shrugs. "I just saw it in passing, I didn't even see their names. Even Norway and Belgium have royal families."

"Are they dreamy like William and Harry?" Sugar adds almost immediately.

Rosario smiles awkwardly, eyes daring to Brad with a conscious glare. Brittany gathers their being uncomfortable and opts to answer for them.

"The princess is, from what I heard. Their prince is a decade younger than us so don't even dream." Brittany offers, sharing a laugh with her friends when Mercedes pulls a face.

"Let's google them right now! I'm curious-"

"No!" Rosario shouts, commanding the entire room with her voice in surprise as she stands up at the same time. The brunette falters, unsure of what to say next.

"Uh… Rosario?" Brittany almost whispers, raising an eyebrow at the brunette.

"O-Oh. E-Excuse us, Brittany and I have to go."

"We do?" Brittany responds, looking quizzically at her friends as if they hold the answer.

"Yes," Rosario continues. "it's a surprise. Shall we?"

Brittany blinks. She surveys the people at the table, still wondering what called for the sudden outburst. She rises from her seat after a moment and stands closer to Rosario than what's deemed normal for friends.

"Okay then. As long as you won't murder me-" She jests, suddenly being aware that she's the only one laughing at her own joke when her eyes focus on her friends scrutinizing them.

"You two are standing so close to each other." Sugar says.

"Too close…" Tina adds.

"Yeah and not to be blunt, but I felt someone's foot brushing on mine. I just thought that it's Brad being flirty." Mercedes joins in.

"I'm gay, Cedes." Brad retorts.

"Didn't you two went home to Brittany's family together- Oh. My. God." Tina declares, finally putting two and two together. Rosario and Brittany's eyes widen in understanding.

It's not as if they're keeping it a secret but they're not entirely flaunting it either. They couldn't care less about the talks of seeing each other but it would help to be discreet since she's fresh off coming out of the closet.

"N-No, it's not like that-" She finds herself saying, like in some déjà vu.

"Sure, Jan." Sugar says nonchalantly.

Rosario chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. "We must leave. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Uhmm… Pri-" Brad speaks but immediately cuts himself off. Rosario glares at him with a stare that could kill someone. "Rosa," He corrects himself. "How will you get there?"

"By train. It has its charms." The brunette adds with confidence. She nods one last time and leads the way for Brittany to exit. The talks of royal completely forgotten along with them.

* * *

Brittany fidgets with her hand, glancing at her wristwatch every so often. She doesn't know where Rosario's taking her. She admits that she's quite nervous seeing that it's their first time being alone together, _out_ together, and she can't help but wonder if this is some kind of date. She glances on her left and catches the brunette smiling in contentment as they walk together and then, Brittany smiles too. She's all for taking this coming out process step by step, all the more if it's with someone like Rosario. Someone as _different_ as her. Someone who's so out of her league like Rosario.

"Rosario, you're not going to kill me, are you?" Brittany jests. Rosario turns her head to flash her a confused look followed by recognition.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it the first time we met each other. You ruined my Prada blouse."

Brittany chuckles. "True. So, you're going to show me where you hid the body that made you run to the USA then?"

Rosario throws a tired but amused look. Brittany responds by making a face. The brunette shakes her head in disbelief just as they stop in front of a familiar building where they had their first 'hang out'. Their first museum together, the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

In a moment, Rosario grabs her hand and guides her to the entrance with glee emanating from her features.

"Where are we going? The museum's closed already." She protests.

The brunette peers back at her and only smirks in responds. Soon enough, they enter the museum, having been let in by the museum administrator himself, and are led to an adjacent pathway leading to a secret backdoor of sorts. A passing wave of confusion washes over Brittany, one of complete loss of comprehension as she casts her eyes around the dark lounge where they're standing. She fixes her gaze on the museum administrator and Rosario speaking in whispers by the corner until their conversation breaks off with the man bowing his head slightly at the girl.

"W-What was that? What did he say?" Brittany murmurs when the man leaves them alone.

"He told us to have a wonderful time and that we have an hour to look around."

"Look around what?" Brittany raises an eyebrow. "This isn't illegal like drugs or anything, right?"

Rosario shrugs, smirking and intertwining their hands together. "It's better."

Brittany stares at the brunette for a long moment. And then, Rosario opens the curtain unveiling another room with golden, mellow lights shining upon the space. The moment Brittany sets her eyes in front of her, her whole mind goes blank, her mouth turns agape in astonishment.

She walks forward in an almost slow motion, eyes darting at the various pieces in front of her. She sees everything and anything that art aficionados would die for. From both corners of the room, world famous European paintings eloquently positioned gather next to a Raphael, a Van Gogh, a Monet; and as the centerpieces of the collection are the most famous Spanish paintings in the world by the likes of Dali, Picasso, Goya, and a few others.

"Oh my god…" Brittany whispers to herself, placing a hand over her mouth. She's never been an art fan, that everyone knows. But the mere presence of history in the form of strokes and harmony of colors that create such beauty leaves Brittany speechless in the best possible way.

"I believe I still owe you one last tutor session given that your pre-finals are near." Rosario comes up beside her with a sly grin on her face. "What better way than to give you a private showing of the museum's most famous pieces?"

Brittany faces the brunette, a look of awe washing upon her. "Are you sure you're not being just romantic?"

"Will that get me a kiss or two?"

"Take a chance."

Rosario chuckles, inching closer to the blonde and putting an arm around her waist. "In that case, the answer is a big yes."

Brittany bites her lip, shaking her head in amusement. "How did you arrange all this again?"

"I used my charms. You know how I can be."

"A conceited ass?" Brittany smirks.

"A _charming_ conceited ass." Rosario grins.

Rosario winks at her. Brittany nods, placing a chaste kiss on Rosario's lips.

"Alright. Enough chit-chatting or I won't be able to stop kissing you."

"I should probably babble on some more then."

Rosario laughs, disregarding the comment with as much willpower as she can. She turns toward the paintings, tugging on Brittany's hand to follow her.

They stop in front of a Goya piece entitled 'The Naked Maja'. The painting depicts an image of Venus in the nude, looking directly at the viewer, lying on a white spread and pillows.

Brittany admires the painting in silence with Rosario for a brief moment. And then, giggles.

"Is this your way of getting me into bed or this like some old school renaissance porn?" Brittany jokes.

Rosario playfully rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "I hope you fail your pre-finals."

"Oh, come on now. Take it back. I was just joking!"

The brunette casts a stern gaze at her. "What did I say at the beginning? My rule when I accepted my role as your tutor?"

Brittany pouts. "That I should take this seriously."

"And so you should."

"Okay, I'm sorry. It was just distracting." She waves a hand in disregard, moving to her left until her eyes rest on another familiar Francisco Goya piece. "Hey, isn't that the Zuñiga painting?"

Rosario looks at her quizzically then nods. Their eyes focus on a painting of an aristocrat toddler wearing a red costume. He is shown playing with a magpie – a few more birds locked in a birdcage behind the toddler – while three cats look on with vested interest on the magpie.

Brittany immerses herself in the piece this time. She feels Rosario's gaze resting on her, looking _into_ her as if wanting to know what's on her mind.

"It's another one of those royal paintings, isn't it?" She says rhetorically. "Going by your guidelines, it can be interpreted in a lot of ways. The cats may be people who'd take advantage of his situation given a chance, the caged birds signifies his being stuck somewhere or a lack of freedom."

Rosario smirks and nods silently in agreement. The brunette walks toward a corner and grabs a bottle of what Brittany's sure is an expensive bottle of wine, even pricier than her life's worth.

"Where did that wine come from?" Brittany asks with a chuckle.

"Oh, you know, colloquially speaking, I 'ride in style'."

Rosario corks the wine open and pours two glasses. She walks over to Brittany again and hands her one.

"I believe you won't need me anymore for this art tutoring, Britt." Rosario raises her glass.

Brittany tilts her head to meet the brunette's gaze. "You're not getting away from me that easily, Rosario."

Rosario's face falters for a split second at the mention of her name, something Brittany almost missed. Before she can react, the brunette follows up almost immediately, gesturing to clink their glasses together, and pulling Brittany close for a kiss.

* * *

Santana can feel her heartbeat pounding louder and louder by the second.

She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves, wondering to herself why Brittany has such an effect on her. She glances at the blonde beside her who seems to be deep in thought as they walk the few steps left to the Bushwick apartment, an arguable Mecca for future dystopian novels.

She's never felt this way before. Such joy. Such excitement. Such contentment. It scares Santana in the wildest of ways. How can one person, someone who she's met not too long ago, hold an immense power over her being? Hearing Brittany's voice gives her the impression of angels lulling you to Heaven with its sweetness. And that smile? Oh god, that smile. Santana has never seen beauty grace her with an image of perfection. The perfection that is Brittany Pierce.

"What's on your mind?" Brittany's voice takes her out of her trance. A trance that could only be trumped by the real-life version in front of her sporting a cute puzzled expression.

"Random musings." She retorts, taking the initiative to intertwine their hands. "Yours?"

"Thoughts of how great you are."

Santana smirks. "Took you long enough to acknowledge my greatness."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Brittany chuckles.

They climb the last flight of stairs in silence, both women sharing frequent fond glances at each other. Shortly, they reach Brittany's apartment, stopping in front of the steel sliding door.

"This is me." Brittany utters, pursing her lips while basking in the slight uncomfortableness of it all.

"Yes." Santana mirrors the gesture, forcing a smile.

Both women stare awkwardly at each other, gauging one another's next move.

"W-Well, I need to catch the train-"

"It's a bit chilly out here-" They speak at the same time, resorting to a chuckle.

Santana takes a deep breath and prepares to bid Brittany goodbye when the blonde beats her to it.

"Do you want to come in first?" Brittany offers, unconsciously biting her lip.

Santana swallows a lump in her throat, a bit loudly at that.

"U-Uh… Of course." She stammers while Brittany's face brightens.

Santana's heartbeat picks up again, thudding like the beat of a drum. She looks around the place and only does it sink in for her that they are _alone_ in the apartment.

"Would you like some coffee? Water?" Brittany asks. Santana notices a glint in the blonde's eye as she looks at her. Brittany's eyes glaze over her body in the split second that passes, a hunger that Santana would very much like to act on.

"N-No. I'm excellent. Thank you very much." She says. Brittany nods, eyebrows furrowing but nonetheless, chuckling at her apparent nervousness.

The moment Brittany turns her back on her, she rolls her eyes and grits her teeth. 'Excellent'?! 'Thank you very much'?! Out of all the times she's talked with dignitaries around the world, she has never been as polite with anyone as she is with Brittany now. She closes her eyes for a moment, cringing at her own awkwardness and anxiety.

"Hey, are you okay?" Brittany questions. She opens her eyes to see the blonde doing the cutest pout a human being is capable of. She blinks too fast and opens her mouth to speak but to no avail.

"Y-Yes. I am. Okay." She dictates. By this time, Brittany has seemingly caught up to her dilemma. The blonde closes the distance between them, right at the spot where Santana remains motionless from the time she entered the apartment.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm just nervous. You are so beautiful." She rambles on, hearing herself slipping into a heavier Spanish accent while her stare drops to the floor.

"Don't be. It's just me." Brittany whispers, lifting Santana's chin.

Santana looks into Brittany's eyes. What was once cerulean blue has now turned into a dark shade of lust. She lets herself be sucked into them, allows Brittany to pull her in for a kiss she's been constantly daydreaming about.

Santana feels her skin burning up. Dizzy. Elated. Anxious. Being this close to the blonde is as thrilling as one could hope. She immerses herself into the kiss even more, brushing her tongue with Brittany's, losing herself into the sensation that flows through her body; everything around her becoming a mere afterthought.

Brittany draws away from the kiss, tugs into Santana's sweatshirt and removes it over the brunette's head and drops it on the floor in one swift motion. Brittany falters for what must have been a few seconds, glazing her eyes over Santana's body in a starving manner, placing the softest of touch on the other's stomach.

Santana jolts, the mere touch of Brittany sending vibrations all over her body. She kisses Brittany again. This time yearning for every stroke of her tongue, unrestrained of all emotions, finding herself needing of Brittany in _that_ way.

They stumble their way to Brittany's bedroom in between clumsily pulling off articles of clothing until only the underwear are left. Brittany settles herself on the bed, lifting her weight with her hands supporting herself from the back, enticing the royal with her smolder. Santana tries her best to focus on the task but the image of those full breasts, abs, and legs that go on for days distracts her in the possible way.

"Are you okay?" Brittany's voice fills the air. She looks up to see a gentle face greeting her.

"I-I am. It's just-" She cuts herself off to take a breath. "You are so stunning."

Brittany laughs. "I hope so because you're way out of my league."

"Oh, please. You're making me blush."

"I'll do more than that." Brittany grins devilishly, reaching for Santana to come closer to her.

The brunette smirks. It's not long until she finds herself unclasping Brittany's bra and experiencing what must be a mini-stroke at the sight of such beauty. And as soon as she removes hers, Brittany mirrors the gesture all the same. Santana moves her mouth from Brittany's lips to the blonde's neck, collar bone, and lower and lower until she reaches Brittany's breast, eliciting a moan from the blonde.

By now, Santana has gone off from elatedness to pure euphoria of pleasure. She has no idea where she's going, letting her body move on its own and continue on doing wonders on Brittany's body. She drops kisses, teases her tongue all over, making the other squirm and delight in the pleasure. She lowers her mouth further at the same time slightly tugging on Brittany's underwear. She looks up to see that Brittany's eyes are full of raw emotion, lust. She removes the garment as slowly as she can, almost painful and when they're off, her breath hitches just a bit more.

Santana's fingers, in the softest of touch, travel up and down's Brittany's inner thigh. Brittany's back arches, relishing in the merciless teasing that is all so consuming every fiber of her being.

"You're evil." Brittany manages to croak out through a moan.

Santana chuckles, moving up to come face to face with Brittany. She places a quick kiss on Brittany's lips and lowers down her body where Brittany needs it, the motion making Brittany gasp and jerk.

Santana smiles to herself in a moment of being overwhelmed by affection. She brushes a stray hair away from Brittany's face.

"I think I'm crazy about you." She whispers.

It's merely a gist of how her heart wells of affection for this wonderful woman, this unbelievable human being who makes her feel happy. She sighs, reveling in the feeling of letting herself fall in love or whatever this feeling that makes her heart combust of joy. Oh, how wonderful it is. If only there was a way she could live forever in this moment, this euphoria of being in love.

Brittany blushes under her longing gaze, returning the stare with such amazement. The blonde bites her lip and puts her arm around Santana, trying to hold back on grinning.

"You make me so happy." Brittany mutters.

Santana grins. She kisses Brittany again, deeper and more passionate this time. She lets herself melt into the embrace, into their bodies touching and becoming one. She allows herself to be carefree for the first time in her life, allowing herself to be _just_ her with Brittany.

* * *

Brittany awakens to the sound of faint singing.

She feels the side of her bed and finds no one there but crumpled blanket. The image putting a huge grin on her face as it brings back memories of last night's events with Rosario. It was perfect in every way she could imagine. Sure, there were awkward moments at first when they were fumbling about and trying to feel what to do because as it turns out, Rosario's never done it before and well, Brittany's yet to sleep with a woman before last night.

But still, it was perfect. Through all the stumbles that they laughed off, it was rewarded with intimacy she's never experienced before. There was something about their every kiss, every touch, or every _thrust_ that made her feel connected to Rosario like no other. It was perfect.

"Oh, you are awake." Rosario, wearing only her oversized shirt, greets her upon opening the curtain to her room; carrying a small table with a plateful of pancakes, eggs, toast, and bacon on top. And then, the brunette smiles and Brittany's heart brims of fondness for the woman yet again.

Brittany sits upright, blushing for a second as she covers up her breasts. "You didn't have to make breakfast."

Rosario chuckles, placing the table in front of Brittany and taking a seat on the bed. "I wanted to." She kisses the blonde, smiling into it. "Good morning. How was sleep?"

"Short. Yours?"

"Scarce." The brunette winks. "Mercedes didn't come home last night, did she? I hope she wasn't murdered by a masked serial killer."

"Nope. Apparently, all of them got drunk after we left. I received a text from her last night that she'll be staying at Sugar's place."

"How opportune." Rosario chortles. Her eyes shift from the plate to Brittany's difficulty of eating while holding on to the covers. "You know, you don't have to cover yourself. I've seen them. I've seen, as you Americans call it, the goods."

Brittany laughs. "'Goods'? You make me sound like a kind of produce."

"I apologize for I have no 'game'." Rosario shrugs, bowing dramatically.

Brittany laughs and takes a bite of the pancake, nodding approvingly. "This is really good. I didn't know you could cook."

"Well, I am Spanish. Wine and food are what we are known for."

"Are you known for being humble too?"

"Most of the time." Rosario smirks. "This is actually my first time cooking for someone."

Brittany's eyes wide. "You're kidding."

Rosario shakes her head, smiling. "I'm always the one being cooked for. My brother and I are forbidden to cook at home."

"Why is that?"

Rosario stares at her for a good second, measuring yet again if she should divulge one of her secrets.

"It's not good practice, I suppose. We have chefs who cook for us. I only learned to cook in secret, or at least fry food, a few years ago."

"And you still live with your family?"

"I have an apartment in the city but for publicity reasons, I'm required to reside with my family."

Brittany purses her lips, leaning forward. She's been trying to figure out Rosario as best as she can these past few weeks. Anything to try and get a hold off who the brunette is out of fondness and romantic attachment.

"What is it?" Rosario prods, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing. It's just- There's so much I don't know about you. I want to know what's on your mind. What you're thinking. I want to know a lot of things about you."

The brunette gives out a small smile, looking down to avoid meeting her eyes.

Brittany sighs, knowing that she won't be able to get anything from asking. As history suggests, Rosario needs to be the one to open up and for that, well, she'll just have to wait. She bites her lip and musters up a huge grin to turn the mood around. "But one thing I need to know is how you made these pancakes so I can bribe Cedes with something." The blonde adds, grinning.

Rosario chuckles and mirrors the smile.

"It is Kurt's recipe. He taught me how to make them back in Madrid. I didn't even know what American pancakes were before we got here. Pancakes in Spain, or in Europe in general, are smaller and thinner, almost like a crepe. American cuisine has weirdly huge proportions."

"You're cute." Brittany grins at the rambling girl, pushing a morsel of toast into Rosario's mouth. "So, who is this Kurt? One of your rich friends who can buy gold plated- Oh shoot! Are you choking?! Are you okay?! Oh my-"

Rosario's face turns pasty white. She nods profusely through her coughing, holding up both hands to signal Brittany that she's alright.

"I-I'm quite fine. I swallowed wrong, I think." She utters in a breathless manner and waves in fraught. "K-Kurt is a friend. Yes, he is. I'm alright now. Don't worry about it."

Brittany only smiles. She's about to say how beautiful Rosario is in the morning or how much she had fun last night when her phone alarm rings. She doesn't miss the relief on the brunette's face when she turns it off.

"You need to be somewhere this early?"

Brittany pouts, nodding. "Rehearsals for the troupe. We have an upcoming performance we're preparing for."

Rosario smiles, motioning to stand. "I see. Well then, let me get out of your hair-"

Brittany holds her back by the arm and pulls her close for a deep, passionate kiss. When they pull apart, Rosario looks questioningly at her.

"What was that for, Britt?"

"For breakfast and other things."

Rosario bites her lip. She places the breakfast table by the side then climbs on the bed, on top of Brittany.

"I need to shower and prepare for rehearsals." Brittany murmurs but nonetheless, gets comfortable in her position under the brunette.

"I can help you with the shower. But can't you skip the rehearsals?"

"Not this one. They have an announcement to make so I need to be there." Brittany pouts.

Rosario nods and kisses her, then moves to her ears; the sensation eliciting goosebumps all over her body and several moans escaping her mouth. Brittany surprises the brunette by turning their positions over.

"But I always have time for this." Brittany whispers directly into Rosario's ear, making the latter writhe in pleasure and struggle with self-control.

* * *

Santana arrives home still smiling like a kid on Christmas Day. She never thought that she'll ever like public transportation, let along the subway with its cramped and smelly glory. But she can't help but reconsider these thoughts when one has Brittany Pierce in her arms, whispering sweet nothing into each other's ears in between kisses on the cheeks and smooches on the lips.

And even after they went their separate ways, Santana continued humming love songs the whole walk back home. And she'd kill anyone who knows but she may or may have not sang her heart out along to Beyoncé at the elevator going up.

She enters the high-end apartment and notices something amiss. Several men in suits bow their heads at the sight of her. Like reflex, she stands straighter, removes all traces of smile on her face, and holds her head up high. She nods at them and before she can ask, Kurt comes out of the dining room looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Gentlemen, will you please excuse us?" He declares as Santana approaches him. The men in suits leave the apartment.

Once they've gone, Kurt regards her from head to toe, resorting to a wide grin.

"What?" Santana asks.

"There's something different about you. What could it be?"

"I-I do not know what you're talking about."

"You didn't sleep here. You're still wearing the same clothes you wore last night. I can see a hickey here and there-"

Santana scrambles to cover up her neck, blushing furiously.

"But sure, I have no idea what I'm talking about." Kurt winks, smirking.

Santana's eyebrows furrow. She clears her throat. "Can you explain what security is doing in our home? I might have noticed a few of them lingering in the lobby, now that I think about it."

"Yes, they're everywhere."

"Again with the question, why?"

Kurt sighs. "They're not for you, Your Highness."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "Who is it for then?"

Kurt begins to speak when Santana sees a handsome boy with brown hair whom she's missed sorely for the past few months. The boy crosses the threshold to the living room with a crooked smile on his face.

"Santana!" He cries out, walking over to her.

"Diego! You're here!" Santana catches the boy for a tight hug, producing one of the most genuine smiles on her face since she arrived in New York. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't arriving until tomorrow afternoon for the event?"

"You're right. But I missed you and I thought we could spend some time together. Perhaps you could give me a tour of New York?"

She's tempted to ask about _home_ , their parents, how everything is from the life she temporarily left behind in Spain. But she bites her lower lip instead, nodding frantically to accede to her brother's request.

"Wonderful!" Diego grins widely. "My assistant is over at the Carlyle arranging my lodgings for the Met charity event. How about we all have dinner later at the hotel?"

"Of course. Kurt and I will be there-"

The sound of her phone ringing interrupts their conversation. She fishes it from her pocket to see that it's Brittany calling her.

"U-Uh… Excuse me. I have to take this." She murmurs. Kurt and Diego smile, resorting to having a conversation of their own.

She takes a few strides away from them and answers the call.

"Who is she talking to?" Diego asks.

"If my guess is correct, then it's just a friend, Your Highness." Kurt shrugs, a knowing glance thrown toward the prince's direction.

"A friend, huh?" Diego grins devilishly, crossing his arms while watching his sister talking on the phone. "I'm glad she's behaved enough to interact normally with people."

"That's still arguable."

Diego chuckles. "What's this friend's name?

"Brittany. Brittany Pierce."

"I see. And this Brittany, is she a student too?"

"She is. She and the Princess are classmates."

"And Brittany Pierce knows about Santana being, well, you know… the Crown Princess of Spain?"

Kurt blinks owlishly, stooping himself into an awkward grin. "Not exactly, Your Highness."

Diego squints his eyes at him when Santana approaches them once again. However, the clear, carefree Santana from a while ago has been replaced by a highly anxious, shocked out of her body doppelgänger.

Both men look at each other quizzically. Kurt speaks up for them.

"Princess, is everything all right?"

Santana remains speechless, staring at the ground with her mouth agape. "I-I…"

"Santana, what's wrong?" Diego adds.

She takes a few deep breaths, blinking rapidly, and eyes dancing around the apartment until it rests on Kurt. "T-That was Brittany."

They wait.

"R-Remember the dance troupe she was talking about?"

Kurt nods, urging her to continue.

"Well, she just called to tell me that her troupe will be performing at this, and I quote, 'high society event with the celebrities and the royals tomorrow'." She sighs again. "They'll be performing at the Met event tomorrow where we will also be attending."

Kurt gasps, placing a hand on his mouth. Diego looks between them in confusion.

"Brittany will be there. She will find out the truth about who I really am."

* * *

 **We're getting there :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Surprise, bitches.** **I read all your reviews and I found the motivation I need to write nonstop. Thanks, you guys :)**

 **Fair warning: May or may not end with a frustrating cliffhanger.**

* * *

Santana feels light-headed, weightless.

It's as if the air and sound have been sucked out of the room making it hard to breathe and gather sense around her. She catches her reflection at the mirror above the console table. The image of her face turning pasty white, brown eyes widening in surprise, and usual unyielding stance betrayed by the intense pounding of her heart scares her in a way she cannot fathom.

"Your Highness?" Kurt's voice takes her out of the trance she's under. She glances at him with confusion drawn over her features. "Are you alright? You look like you're about to faint." He adds, eyebrows furrowed.

"Santana, what's going on?" Diego chimes in, puzzled.

Santana takes three deep breaths, shakes her head, and waves them off. "I-It's nothing, Diego. Never mind that."

The boy maintains his gaze on her. "Is this about the Brittany Pierce woman?"

Santana raises an eyebrow then sighs. "Yes, it is." She pauses and shares a knowing look with Kurt before speaking again. "I-I've been living a double life here in New York, Diego. Kurt and I, actually."

Diego squints his eyes at them then holds up a finger. He motions to the sofa, "How about we all take a seat and the both of you explain what exactly is going on here?"

They oblige. Within a minute or two, Santana and Kurt have relayed everything to the boy. The reason for such 'undercover', their names, the situation, and the hole they find themselves in right now.

"The only question I find myself asking is," Diego trails off, "why is Kurt's undercover name 'McDuffin'? It sounds like one of those happy meals. If you were trying to be inconspicuous then you are doing an awful job of doing so."

"I told her that, Your Highness." Kurt states further.

"That is not the point here!" She argues. "Brittany will be there! She's going to see me as _me_! She's going to find out the truth!"

"Don't you want her to find out the truth?" Diego asks.

The brunette goes over the thought. To some extent, she does want Brittany to know everything. She wants to be honest. There's nothing more that she desires but to share her world and who she is with Brittany. However, the underlying consequences of this truth backfiring terrifies her. Would Brittany get mad? Would Brittany accept her for who she really is? Would Brittany still see her, still hold the same affection for her? Santana can only hope.

"I-I don't know. Perhaps I should tell her myself? Won't that be better than finding out through someone else or seeing me there in the flesh? Maybe she'd understand?" She rambles, looking at both men for some guide.

Diego and Kurt glance at one another, hoping that the answer lies with the other.

"Your Highness, we already talked about this. I don't think it's a good idea." Kurt objects, letting out a deep breath.

"B-But that is where it's headed anyway, isn't it? Why not soften the blow? Perhaps she would forgive me and keep it as a secret-"

"For what, Princess? This isn't our home. We're going to leave New York soon and all of this would be moot in a few months' time."

"So, you're saying that I should just let the events transpire by itself? Let this impending disaster unravel right before my very eyes, is that it?"

Kurt reins in his exasperation. "I can't let you do that. This is for your own sake. I'm only trying to protect you, Santana."

Santana rises from her seat, anger strewn upon her face. "Protect me from what?! From the press? From this retched cage of a life? I don't need you to protect me, Kurt. I can take care of myself."

"You are _not_ 'Rosario Cruz', Your Highness!" Kurt's voice rises as he stands up and mirrors her stance. "Whether you like it or not, you are the Crown Princess of Spain. This- This persona you've built in New York is nothing more than an illusion. We went here to cater to your desire for some freedom and here we are. I have been nothing but lenient when it comes to your every whim but telling someone you've only known for a few months, regardless if you're dating or not, is a bit of a stretch." He pauses to catch his breath. "I trust Brittany, I really do. But I can't let you risk hurting yourself if this whole ordeal turns sour and excuse my term, the shit hits the fan. I cannot have the truth exposed to anyone and that's always been our priority prior to coming here. I am only trying to protect you, Your Highness. I am your friend here, not your enemy."

Santana's body begins to weaken of emotional fatigue, tears welling at the back of her eyes. She sighs deeply, places a hand on her forehead, and sinks back down on the couch.

Diego holds up both hands in a ceasefire motion, wide eyes and all. "Alright. Let us all calm down here. We are on each other's side."

Santana and Kurt share a passing glance, one that calls for a neutral turn to their otherwise previous hostile exchange.

"Brittany is special to me, that's why. She makes me happy a-and," She exhales, shaking her head, "the thought of her getting hurt because of me will break my heart and it's all my fault. If she sees me there tomorrow and figures it out, and she will because she's one of the smartest people I know, then that will be the end of everything. We might as well pack our bags and go home."

Kurt purses his lips and scoots closer to the brunette. "Then let's devise a plan."

She looks up. "What do you have in mind?"

"Maybe we could find a way for her not to see you there? There's always a small chance you'll miss each other's presence."

"We all know that my presence isn't exactly the most low-profile. Diego and I are on the same dinner table as William, Catherine, and Henry. All eyes will be on us."

Diego chimes in, "What if you skip dinner, Santana? I can cover for you."

"She can't, Your Highness. It would be bad publicity if she does. They're expecting you two to interact with the other royals during dinner." Kurt protests.

"What if I skip it altogether?"

Diego shakes his head vehemently. "Mother had strict instructions that you were not to run off from this engagement. If you do, she will make sure that you'll be on the flight home with me the day after tomorrow."

"This is a disaster." Santana murmurs to herself.

Kurt speaks up, "Then how about we run a bit late and get lost in the sea of dignitaries and celebrities. Or duck in for a while, make the necessary greetings then leave immediately after dinner, citing emergency reasons for business or the like."

Santana nods and thinks, sharing a look with Diego. "That could work."

Diego smiles, taking a deep breath. "This Brittany Pierce intrigues me. We've never had to make extraordinary measures for someone. Ah! Just imagine Mother getting a hold of this! She'll go ballistic!"

A knock from the front door interrupts their conversation. Momentarily, a man opens the door and sneaks his head in to address the prince.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Your Royal Highness. The Hotel Carlyle is ready for you. We're prepared to leave."

Diego nods. "Thank you. Just give me a minute." The man withdraws and closes the door again. "I have to go and get some sleep. We're still on for dinner tonight, aren't we? We must catch up with the happenings back home and you have to tell me everything that went on here."

"Of course. I believe we're staying at the Carlyle for the event as well? Kurt?" Santana retorts, casting a glance at her assistant. They all stand up.

Kurt nods, turning to his left to address the princess, "Yes. Speaking of, I have to go there and make sure they followed the necessary arrangements for your reservation tonight. If you have anything you would like me to sort out for you, call me and I'll have it settled immediately."

Diego adds, "Cool. Why don't you catch a ride with me in the limo?"

Kurt smiles. "Thank you." He grabs his coat while Santana gives her brother a tight hug.

"I'll see you later, Diego."

" _Hasta luego_ , Santana."

* * *

Brittany wipes the sweat off her eyebrows while breathing heavily through her mouth. She walks to the corner and grabs her water tumbler, gulping copious amounts of the liquid.

It's only been a week or two since she joined the dance troupe but she's come to discover that the extensive training, heavy rehearsal schedules, and rigorous dancing are not for the weak soul and the faint-hearted.

They've been at it for almost three hours straight now. A mesh of contemporary jazz and ballet dancing routine that the NYU Tisch dance troupe is known for. Going incessantly through all the motions and steps with precision like no other, almost as if they're preparing for battle. She admits that she's a tad worn-out with some fatigue setting in. But looking back now with a smile on her face, she's positive the dull ache in her body can be attributed to a certain brunette.

"Miss Pierce." Professor Hilda, the troupe's handler and adviser, and someone Brittany previously referred to herself as 'Professor Beach Blonde', approaches her with a smile on her face. "I need to talk to you."

Brittany faces the woman and slouches a bit. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

"Oh, dear. No!" Miss Hilda waves her hand dismissively. "You were great. You're actually one of our best dancers right now. Definitely our best when it comes to jazz."

"W-Wow. Thank you, ma'am. I'm sure the others are great too." The younger blonde blushes, smiling shyly. "What would you like to discuss?"

"I'm just checking in. It's your first performance with the troupe tomorrow and at a high end black-tie event, no less. Are you nervous?"

"If I'm going to be honest, I am. But I'm also excited. I've never performed with a troupe like this before."

"Great. You can put that nervous edge to use then." Miss Hilda takes a hold of an envelope from her clipboard then hands it over to Brittany.

The blonde stares at it for a moment before snapping it up. She gazes at the envelope then at Miss Hilda who tells her to open it. Inside, and upon careful inspection, a personal invitation to audition for the American Jazz and Ballet Company greets her. Her eyes shoot wide open, mouth open wide when she reads through it a second time. It has her name in it, for God's sake! As a dancer classically trained in jazz and ballet, it's the best of the best. The crème de la crème of dance companies.

She places a hand over her mouth, taken completely aback with sheer joy. She looks up to see Miss Hilda grinning as well.

"Oh my god…" She whispers, breath hitching in glee. "I-Is this for real?"

"It is." Miss Hilda chuckles. "We know you're graduating this semester so we took the initiative to help out. It's just an audition but it's one step through the door."

"Thank you so much! I don't know how I could thank you enough for this- This is a dream come true!"

"No need to thank me. We told you that being in the troupe has its perks and getting invitations like this is just one of them." Miss Hilda pauses. "We take care of our own, Brittany. Whether you're new to the troupe or not, we make sure you utilize that talent. Just do us proud."

Brittany takes a deep breath as she smiles. "You won't regret it."

"Good!" Miss Hilda utters. "It's sort of your second audition, actually. Your first one is tomorrow at the Met event with the troupe. This dance you all will be performing. The American Jazz and Ballet Company likes to be thorough in their selection process so do your best because they will be looking out for you from the crowd."

Brittany blinks. "T-Tomorrow? W-What?"

"They just want to see how well you'd work in a group first. Don't worry about it. You'll get the second audition no matter what, that's the more important one. Like I said, do your best and you'll be fine." Miss Hilda turns to walk away but stops at the last second to address Brittany again. "Before I forget, we're placing you at the middle front for this routine. It's a tradition for newcomers to the troupe. Might also help you since the Company administrators won't be able to take their eyes away from you. Good luck!" She adds, then walks away.

Brittany stays still for a good minute. Mixed feelings of elatedness and anxiety course through her body at the sudden influx of information. But the overflowing happiness trounces all other emotions when she realizes that she, a small town country girl on a scholarship, has a chance of getting into one of the best dance companies in the world. The dance company of her dreams since she was merely a child. She grins widely to herself. Looking like a creepy fool in the room be damned!

She fishes her phone from her gym bag and dials Rosario's number again. She called her earlier to spread the good news of performing at the Met, surely it's not an issue to be sharing another but bigger good news to the brunette. It rings a few times but no one picks up. Maybe Rosario's in class? Oh well. She puts her phone back and sits on the floor, contemplating all her good luck this past week. All Brittany knows is, for now, she's on cloud nine and nobody and nothing can drag her down with her spirits at an all-time high.

With all the good things, consecutive _good_ things, going so right for the first time in her life, a girl can only hope that there's no pulling under the rug this time around.

* * *

It's the day of the Met charity event and Santana feels like she's going crazy.

She's barely had any sleep, hardly anything to eat, and there's only a few more hours to go before she has to leave for the charity function. She tossed and turned in her hotel room all night. Contemplating life and death in the form of confessing the whole truth to Brittany.

As much as she wants to talk to the blonde, she deliberately desisted from doing so. She's received about three or four calls from Brittany only to let Kurt answer the last one, citing reasons of another spontaneous family visit that she had to attend to. Excusing herself from any future calls by having Kurt tell Brittany she forgot her phone at home.

The sound of knocking on her suite's front door wakes her in the brief slumber she found herself in on the couch. She hears the front door open. Looking up from her line of vision, she sees an upside down, dashing Kurt dressed in a black tie suit, his signature Hippo brooch subtly resting on his left chest. He stops in front of the couch, looking down on the brunette.

"With all due respect, you look like Sleeping Beauty who never woke up, Your Highness."

"Boy, I wonder what you'd say when it is _without all due respect_." Santana chuckles. She sits up, carefully minding the red ball gown dress she's wearing to avoid any mishap. Kurt takes the lounge chair next to the couch. "Is it time to leave?" She adds.

"Not for another an hour and a half, it's not." Kurt smiles. "You can sleep again, if you wish. I'll wake you up when it's time to retouch your hair and makeup."

"It's alright. I am a bit hungry though."

"I already called for room service."

Santana nods. Her eyes mindlessly dart to the television screen in front of them showing a classic shark movie from the 80's.

Feelings of worry wash over her again. What would Brittany think of her when she finds out? What would Brittany say when she sees her? What would Brittany do? She takes a deep breath for what must be the hundredth time.

"Where is Diego? Aren't we supposed to leave together?" She mentions in a bid to alleviate the tension.

"According to plan, he'll go ahead. He's set to leave in half an hour and have a brief talk with the Prime Minister of Ireland. His Highness will meet you at the lobby where you will enter the event together for the photos, meet the dignitaries. The usual fuss."

"I see." She says. "You look respectable today, Kurt."

"Don't I look respectable all the time?"

"Does my blatant impudence of never listening to you give it away?"

Kurt chortles, rolling his eyes. "I tried my best to clean up. I hear the Prince of Brunei, the one whom I have crush on and claim to be my future husband, will be sitting two tables away from us."

"Perhaps you should have dressed a bit more unrespectable then."

"I think I'm a bad influence on you."

"You gather that only now?" She retorts, both of them chuckling. They fall back in a short silence.

Kurt breaks the ice, focusing his attention on the princess. "I'm sorry for raising my voice on you earlier. I was just- I was worried that you weren't thinking in a logical and rational manner."

She shakes her head. "I should be the one apologizing. I know that you were only doing your job." Santana meets his gaze. "I was lost in the delusion that I have a different life here in New York. And yes to some extent, it's possible that I am being unreasonable. I suppose that the line turns a bit hazy when it comes to Brittany."

"Brittany called again, actually." Kurt retorts, eyes on the screen. "I told her you'd be back by dinner. She's just checking up on you. She's really excited to perform later."

Santana swallows the lump in her throat. "Good for her."

"Don't you want to talk to her?"

"I don't think it's a good idea, Kurt. I-It's complicated."

"And why is that?"

"Because I have feelings for her. Strong feelings." Santana smiles sadly to herself. "I think I'm in love with Brittany." She pauses. "And I feel cheated by fate to have met such an amazing woman but _never_ have the chance to be with her."

Kurt watches the brunette with a forlorn expression. How unfortunate it must be to find _that_ someone but not be with them just because. It hurts him to see the Princess, his best friend, look so dejected to her very core.

Momentarily, they hear someone knocking on the front door.

Kurt breathes deeply through his mouth and cuts the silence. "You're my topmost priority, Your Highness." He reaches for his coat pocket and fishes out the brunette's phone, handing it to her. "And that also includes your happiness." He stands up, smiles at her, and walks over to the door.

Santana blinks owlishly at her phone. She glances at Kurt who, if she's not mistaken, has given her the choice to tell Brittany the truth. She feels her heart thumping to the beat of a non-existent drum, her brain going into overload at the overwhelming number of possible scenarios, her body resorting to what seems to be an override of her mental faculties.

She thinks, thinks, and thinks as much as she can.

Is it worth the risk of telling Brittany now instead of finding out for herself later? Wouldn't it be better to hope for the best that she won't cross paths with Brittany tonight and voluntarily discuss things over in a rational and comprehensible manner when all is calm? Wouldn't it be better to focus on the present, her duties as a Princess, and worry about everything else after? Doesn't Brittany deserve to be told the truth _in person_? Not over the phone. Not before a performance. Not finding out in the most inopportune of moments. Certainly not in a rush.

And then, she stops thinking.

She glances down at the phone in her hand and places it on the coffee table. She stares at it for a long while as her mind goes blank.

After receiving room service, Kurt comes back to his seat. His eyes flicker to Santana then to the brunette's phone.

"Not yet." Santana whispers. "I'll tell her myself tonight. After the charity function."

"You're willing to take the chance?"

"I have to."

Kurt nods. He stands up again. He gathers two platefuls of fruits and cheeses from the cart. He pours wine for them then places everything on the table, returning to his seat.

"What do we do now? She asks, finally looking up.

Kurt meets those brown eyes, filled with a void of unsureness. "We wait, Your Highness."

* * *

Brittany cannot believe herself right now.

She woke up at the crack of dawn to rehearse today's routine a few more times at school alone. At around noon, she decided to go home since the event won't be until the evening. She took the chance to nap in the middle of the day, reserving her strength and staving off unwanted nerves. However, she woke up to find out that she had overslept and had only two hours left before call time.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

She rushed to shower and prepare, shoved all the necessities she'll need in her gym bag, and made her way to the city. She may or may not have pushed people out of her way and hurdled through a few obstacles like a champion athlete to make in time. The slight drizzle didn't help her ordeal either.

It was utter chaos outside the museum and all roads leading to it. She can't reckon how many burly men in suits she's seen roaming in and out of the vicinity. Countless VIPs dressed to the nines gather at the red carpet leading to the museum. Some conversing. Some having their pictures taken. Some pretending to enjoy. The paparazzi are in full force, taking pictures here and there enough to make one blind with all the flashing lights.

Looking back, Brittany realizes that she may have been on the wrong side of the museum to witness all this. And that she was definitely at the wrong entrance to start with. Maybe that's why she had quite the difficulty of getting in at first. But in her defense, no one stopped her at the get go when she flashed her NYU I.D. She looked like a garbage person in her casual wear entering the lobby next to Bono who winked at her. Now, that's one story she'll have to tell her brothers.

And now, she finally sets foot inside the museum lobby after having been stopped so many times and told that she was definitely at the wrong entrance.

She sighs deeply, shaking her head in annoyance at all the time she wasted being held back by security. She walks briskly along the hall, evading the abundance of people and careful not to step on any of the long trains lying on the floor.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

The troupe's probably stretched and all warmed up without her! If only she had the foreknowledge to go where or if she hadn't taken that nap, then she wouldn't have been late! She's blowing her audition before it even started. Then there's Rosario whom she hasn't talked to since yesterday morning. Is she ignoring her? Is she dumping her after having slept with her? Surely it's not like that because they're not even dating and-

Brittany bumps head on into someone as she turns to a corner. Someone she didn't see coming from another direction. The force is enough to knock her down on the floor, her head feeling like it hit a ton of bricks. Her gym bag tumbles a yard away from her, some of her belongings scattering inches from it.

"Ow…" She groans to herself upon massaging her temple.

Thankfully, the trouble doesn't cause commotion nor any unwarranted attention. She looks up from where she lies on the floor and sees several frightening and muscular men in suits looking down at her with a cold expression. A look as if they're ready to end her life, right here, right now.

Brittany's throat becomes dry at the sight of them. They all speak simultaneously to her in a harsh tone. It's in a foreign language but sounds familiar. And then she figures out why, because it's Spanish.

As if the tormenting weren't enough, the men advance toward her in a menacing way.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

This is it. Brittany's sure she's going to die in the lobby of the Met. She tries to get up and move away from them when suddenly, someone speaks.

" _Detente!_ _Estás asustando le_ _. Fue sin querer._ " The stranger's commanding voice echoes. The men immediately withdraw from moving forward. They part slowly to the sides with their backs facing them, creating a sort of shield around the stranger and her.

Brittany casts her glance up again, finally locking eyes with the stranger.

It's just a boy. A handsome young boy who cannot be older than fourteen years old by the looks of him. He has nut-brown hair that mirrors the color of his eyes. He seems to be taller, more muscular than most boys his age too. Probably wiser and more mature given his stance but fairly a laid back one as well with the aura he exudes. Brittany can't quite put it but the boy has quite the resemblance with someone she knows.

The boy unbuttons his tuxedo. He locks eyes with Brittany and approaches her.

"Are you alright, Miss?" He smiles. She notices a distinct heavy accent droning over his English. "Let me help you, please." He adds, offering a hand.

Brittany hesitantly takes it then lifts herself up. She glances at the men in suits and concludes to herself that they're robots incapable of human emotion. She gazes at the boy again with slight confusion drawing on her face.

"Are you alright? You were not hurt, weren't you?" He utters, eyebrows furrowing. "My apologies. You bumped into my security. We did not see you approaching from the corner."

Then she realizes it. The inflection in his speech, the way he uses words like they're in medieval times, the weird resemblance, or the mere fact of him speaking in Spanish. The boy reminds her of Rosario.

"O-Oh no. It's my fault, really. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have walked more slowly. I wasn't looking at all." She rambles, holding both hands up in defense.

The boy offers a smile, nodding. He peers to the side where Brittany's bag remains on the floor. "Let me help you." He reiterates again.

"N-No. It's fine. Don't bother-"

"I insist." He says, tugging on his pants and preparing to bend down.

Brittany gives in, shrugging. She crouches and starts to gather her belongings. "What's your name, kid?" She casually asks him.

The young boy looks up for a moment, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he smiles. "Diego." He pauses. "My name is Diego."

* * *

The drizzling has finally ceased.

Santana watches the Met vicinity from the back seat of her limo, examining the attendees and the commotion and to some extent, hoping she'd see Brittany from afar. Regardless of everything happening right now, there's nothing more comforting but the sight of Brittany's smile, her warm presence to soothe the brunette in times like these. Despite herself, Santana wants to up and tell her everything, to hope for the best that things would stay the same.

She sighs and lets herself relax against the seat, head falling back and to the side facing the window.

"What's on your mind?" Kurt breaks the silence, busy with his cell phone.

"If there's still time to run away and build a new identity somewhere."

"And where are we going this time?"

" _We_?" Santana glances at him. Kurt looks up at her.

"In the vein of romantic stories, you jump, I jump. It's gross but whatever."

" _You're_ gross." Santana jests. "Perhaps we could go to Australia this time?"

"And get murdered by kangaroos and cockroaches as big as my head? No way. You're on your own, Your Highness. I'm out!" Kurt declares, shaking his head with passion. Santana chuckles then resumes her position of looking out the window again.

"Don't you sometimes wish that things were different?"

Kurt frowned at the question. "I've never thought about it."

Santana nods somberly. "I'm never going to meet some like Brittany again, Kurt. If it were in a different time, if I were a different person, if I weren't who I _am._ Things would work out, won't they?"

Kurt smiles sadly.

Santana stares out into the museum, watching VIPs flock into the venue. She briefly wrestles with the idea of turning around to go back home and pack her bags and leave everything behind. But she argues against it. Brittany deserves better than that.

"It's time, Princess." Kurt tells her.

It's time to hope for the very best as well, she thinks. She looks back at Kurt and nods in understanding. He informs Pablo the driver to turn the car around, falling in line with the few cars waiting to drop off their guests. Countless paparazzi hound the valet line with huge cameras in hand, snapping away as if their lives depended on it. Two cars, one in front and one at the back, both of which contain Santana's security detail sandwich them in their place.

Momentarily, their limo finally moves to take its turn to drop them off. Her security guards alight from the cars in haste and surround her limo, waiting for her to alight. The paparazzi begin to aggressively take pictures even with them still inside the vehicle.

"I'm ready when you are, Your Highness." Kurt utters. Santana glances at him, their environment illuminated by the constant bursts of light from the cameras.

Kurt reaches for her hand and squeezes it. "I'm here, Santana. We'll get through this together."

Santana draws out a forced smile, nodding. She lets out one last deep breath through her mouth. "I'm ready."

Kurt smiles and reaches for the door handle.

* * *

 **You can swear me off now but** **KEEP THE REVIEWS COMING. They motivate the shit out of me.**

 **I am writing nonstop and HOPING to finish it by tomorrow or so I can post an update on or before Saturday. I am as desperate as you to get to that _part_ already.**

 ***Anyway, I'm active on tumblr again. For questions or musings, particularly the Guest reviewers, you can address them on my tumblr (kpgleek13*tumblr*com) so I can directly answer everything you wish to know.**


	11. Chapter 11

**And we have arrived. Thanks for all the reviews! As promised, I bring you** _ **the**_ **chapter. An extended one ;)**

 **For those who asked, I envisioned Diego as a young Tyler Posey look alike.**

* * *

Diego.

The name evokes a nagging thought at the back of Brittany's mind. A gut feeling brewing somewhere inside her. If she remembers correctly, that's also Rosario's brother's name. What a coincidence.

"That's a cool name." She tries for a casual conversation while helping the boy gather her belongings. "Where are you from, Diego?"

"Spain." Diego continues to smile with a glint in his eye. "It's not really that cool. There are millions with the same name as I am."

"What would you rather your name be then?"

"Batman." He grins. It's unique."

Brittany laughs, reaching for a stray hairbrush. "I don't think that would go well with any surname."

"I don't have one."

"What do you mean you don't, kid?" Brittany looks up at him with a puzzled expression. "So, it's like Adele? Or Beyoncé'?" She pauses, a serious look on her face. "Are you a popstar?"

"I wish but I'm not." Diego shrugs, chuckling. "My family just doesn't have one. Although we have the option of using our House name as a surname but I prefer not to."

"Huh." Brittany nods to herself. She's never met a kid who talks like this boy for his age. Even his laugh is more tactful than her entire body movement.

"So, you're a dancer?" Diego continues. Brittany looks up at him. He points to the ballet shoes peeking from her gym bag.

"I am. We're actually performing for the intermission later."

"Wow. That is impressive. I'll be looking forward to that, ma'am."

Brittany smiles. They finish gathering the rest of her belongings and stand up.

"Thank you," Brittany starts, slinging her gym bag around her body. "Diego. You didn't have to do that but thank you."

"Don't, please." He buttons his tuxedo. "I'm waiting for someone anyway so you've spared me immensely from boredom."

"Oh, cool. Who are you waiting for? Your parents?"

"My sister. We're attending this charity dinner together in place of our parents."

Brittany blinks. "Older or younger?"

"Older. There's only two of us."

Brittany squints her eyes at the boy. Look at that, his name is Diego and he also has a sister. Rosario's filthy rich and by the looks of this boy, so does he. He, or his family, wouldn't be invited in this kind of event if they weren't affluent. The kind of security around the kid doesn't let the thought rest easy either.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Brittany shakes her head with fervor. "N-No. I just remembered a friend from Spain who also has a younger brother named Diego. And well, she mentioned that her family's kind of a big deal in Spain. She's also the type to get invited to these things-"

"And you're wondering if your friend is my sister?" Diego cuts off her rambling, amused.

Brittany contemplates the silly thought and laughs at herself. "You're right. It's ridiculous."

Diego chortles, clasping his hands down and leaning his head slightly to the side. "My sister's name is Santana."

"Ah, then that settles it. She's definitely not my friend." She grins. "Although your sister's name is up there with the likes of Rihanna and Shakira."

"I will certainly relay that to her." Diego laughs heartily. "To be honest, you're the first person to ever claim that someone's friend is _my_ sister. It's usually the _other_ way around."

Brittany runs the analogy on her mind, looking like a fool solving a math equation. "That someone always claims to be your sister's friend?"

"Yes. For whatever purpose it may serve them. That sort of thing." He makes light of.

"Well then, I am honored." She jokes. "Out of curiosity and if you don't mind me asking, what do your parents do? Are they in showbiz?"

Diego looks at her in bewilderment. "N-No. Definitely not in showbiz. No one's ever asked me that before either."

"I'm hitting a lot of firsts here."

"You are, ma'am." He laughs. Brittany joins in. He speaks again, "My parents, let's just say, they help the Spanish government. My sister and I help out in foreign engagements, charity events like this one, and some formal dinners or social events that need attending to from someone in our family."

Brittany narrows her eyes, confusion reaching an all-time high. "So, what does that make them?"

"The King and Queen of Spain." Diego answers in a casual tone.

Brittany's eyebrows shoot up, eyes widen, mouth agape, and body completely frozen in shock. She attempts to say anything but words become sparse. The overprotectiveness of his security makes sense now.

"Miss, are you alright?" Diego asks her again, sounding like a broken record.

She blinks rapidly then clears her throat. "Y-Yes. I-I just uhmm-" She pauses, closing her eyes for a quick second. "Then that makes you…" She trails off, letting him fill in the blanks.

Diego only smiles in response.

"Oh shoot…" Brittany murmurs to herself. Not only did she engage in a casual conversation with apparently, the Prince of Spain. But she had also made fun of her sister's name, the freaking Princess! She even likened said Princess's name to goddamn Shakira, for God's sake! The horror, the embarrassment!

"There you are!" The familiar voice of Miss Hilda calls out a few feet away from them. They both turn to see her motioning for her to come closer. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on, you're late. We need to get you to hair and make-up."

"I wouldn't want to keep you anymore." Diego speaks up, gathering her focus again. "It's been a pleasure talking to you. I don't remember the last time I very much enjoyed a conversation with someone."

"L-Likewise. Uh… Sir?" She retorts, awkwardly curtsying.

"Just Batman is fine." Diego jests, playfully winking at her. He holds out a hand for Brittany. "It's so nice to meet you, Miss?" He motions for her to fill in, leaning forward.

"Brittany. Brittany Pierce." She says, shaking his hand.

In an almost comical fashion, Diego's eyes grow wide at the mention of her name. He blinks rapidly, eyebrows creasing together. Thunderstruck. He clears his throat and prepares to speak but Brittany beats him into it.

"You'll have to excuse me." She utters, motioning to her adviser still waiting for her.

"O-Of course." Diego stutters, still at a loss for words.

Brittany ponders to herself if it was she who said something wrong. She withdraws from his presence, aware that the prince has his eyes on her until now. She awkwardly pushes herself out of the little bubble the security guards made for them and follows Miss Hilda backstage.

This week has truly been one of a kind in her otherwise monotonous life. She came out to her loved ones. She spent the night with the most beautiful woman she's ever seen in her entire life. She received a personal invitation to audition to the dance company of her dreams. Then by her own dumb luck, she met the freaking Prince of Spain! Those are mere highlights of her week so far and surely, that last one takes the cake! _Yet._ One thing's for sure, Brittany thinks.

She _cannot_ wait to tell Rosario all about it.

* * *

Santana had almost forgotten what it was like to be _her_ in times like this.

As soon as she alights the limo, all eyes fall on her. She assumes her regal stance like reflex. She stands up straighter. Shoulders back. Holds her head high. Plasters a permanent smile on her face.

The immense attention on Santana could be attributed to the incessant shouting of the paparazzi trying their best to take photos of her, the bulging tower of bodies blocking everything attempting to make contact. It could not be helped since she's been absent from any kind of tabloid activity these past few months. Direct heirs to any royal family always amass large amounts of attention. The way she looks tantalizing in her red gown also helps.

Kurt leads the way to the museum's entrance, passing by slowly at the red carpet. There's no photo opportunity, her assistant insisted for security purposes.

The paparazzi stop mobbing her. They take their place behind the barricade set up for them at both sides of the room. The red carpet sandwiched between said barricades. Her bodyguards relax as well, giving her much leeway to move now.

The bright lights of the cameras never cease to shine upon her. The paparazzi's relentless shouting of "Santana, Santana!", "Santana, here!", "Princess, where have you been?!", "Your Highness, look here!", are all deafening. The lights, blinding. _Dios mio,_ she thinks to herself. She really must have lost her mojo in the couple of months she took a vacation from this.

Santana surveys the vicinity again. She focuses on the people. A gentle wave here and there. She smiles back at some of the guests who greet her from afar. She stops a couple of times to shake hands with a few celebrities who become intimidated by her mere presence.

Momentarily, they enter the museum and make their short trip to the lobby. The previous dread of Brittany seeing her, or anyone in that dance troupe who's seen her around at school, sets in again. Santana sighs to herself as she walks alongside Kurt in the hallway of the museum.

"Still good?" Kurt whispers, eyes up front.

"So far, yes. You?"

"I almost died, to be honest." Kurt smiles. "Nothing like getting back on the horse, right?"

Santana chuckles. "Yes. Except there's no reins, no saddle, and the horse is jumping around high on drugs."

They turn to the corner leading to the lobby that serves as a waiting place for the guests. Great crowds congregate in the room. All of them having their own conversations in small groups. Some being introduced to others. Some drinking the complimentary champagne. Some pretending to listen.

Even from across the room, Santana can spot Diego having a serious conversation with someone. They make their way toward him. Definitely gathering everyone's attention as she passes by. She smiles at the few people who greet her but refrains from stopping to converse for now.

Diego turns to see her approaching. A look of relief and a subtle signal of his eyebrows for a rescue flashes on his face. "Ah! _Hola_ Santana. I was just having a conversation with Prime Minister Burke." He motions to the man beside him.

Santana stops in front of them. Kurt trails, stopping a foot behind her. The guards blending in the crowd.

"Prime Minister Burke. It's pleasure to finally meet you." She utters, offering a handshake. A flash of bright light shine on them at the same time.

"Your Royal Highness." He retorts, shaking her hand and lowering his head in a quick motion. "The pleasure is all mine. I was just talking to Prince Diego about extending an invitation to visit Ireland in the future. We have so many attractions that I've been enumerating to His Highness. We can't forget about St. Patrick's Day too. You can never get Guinness like it is in Ireland. I can guarantee that." He rambles on proudly. He prepares to speak again, quickly gasping great amounts of air, when Santana cuts in to speak.

"That would be lovely. Neither of us have been there before. Perhaps you could give us a tour?"

"I'd be delighted to." He answers, then leans forward to whisper. "And maybe we could discuss some tourism matters as well?"

"Why not, Mr. Burke?" Santana clasps her hands low in front of her. "But no talks of business tonight, alright? Let's revel in a stress free environment for a little while."

"Of course." He grins, preparing to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll have to find my wife." He withdraws from their company.

Diego sighs. He whispers, "He would not stop talking. I thought he was choking on air. I ran out of things to say."

"It takes practice, little one." Santana winks. "You haven't waited long, have you?"

"I grew a few gray hairs but I'm fine."

Santana chuckles. "Nothing interesting so far?"

Diego turns serious. Santana perceives it. She glances over her shoulder and motions for Kurt to come closer.

"I ran into Brittany Pierce." Diego whispers to the other two.

She shares a panicked look with Kurt. "When? How?" She asks.

"Before I talked to Prime Minister Burke." He paused. "She crashed into my security and fell to the ground. I helped her with her things and had a brief conversation with her. I didn't know she was Brittany Pierce until she told me her name before she left.".

Kurt chimes in, "Did you say anything that could have given us away?"

"I-I'm not sure. She didn't know who I was. She asked a few questions and I told her I have an older sister then she became weird about it. She said she had a friend who has a younger brother named Diego too-"

"Brittany thought you are my-" She cuts herself off. "Rosario's brother."

"Yes."

"Well, she's not wrong about that." Kurt comments, shrugging. "Did she put two and two together?"

"No. She thought it was silly. She let it go when I told her my sister's name. Then she freaked out when she found out who I am then left. And that was it. I'm sorry, Santana. I should have asked her name from the start." He hangs his head low.

Santana bites her lip. If Brittany had let it go then they have not been found out. So far. They have yet to get to dinner and Brittany's almost at the cusp of learning the truth. Someone must have got it up there for her. This must be karma for all her shortcomings in life.

But still, she remains hopeful. The night is young. She's determined to get through it unscathed.

Santana smiles, placing a hand over her brother's shoulder. " _No pasa nada_ , Diego. It's not your fault. It's alright."

Diego lets out a sigh of relief. "What do we do now?"

Santana and Kurt share a look. She speaks, "We focus on doing our jobs here. We wouldn't want to cause any trouble. Or cause anything to irk Mother."

Both men nod.

Santana turns to Kurt. "What's on my itinerary for tonight again?"

"Lots of people to meet. Tons of conversations to make. Plenty of artworks to see." Kurt says. He fishes his phone out of his coat pocket and reads from it. "There are lots of guests who are dying to talk to you tonight. The New York Governor is waiting to meet you inside. The Mayor is a few feet away behind me eager to meet you both right now.

"Dinner will start in fifteen minutes. Everything will commence after. The paintings are in the room adjacent to the ballroom for initial sightseeing. A few of it will be up for bidding after dinner. I have your checkbook on my person. If there is anything that would come up at all, then fear not, I will be beside you the whole time sitting next to Kate Middleton." He finishes, looking up with a smile.

The crowd in the lobby begins to move around. Most of them beginning to enter the grand ballroom. The Mayor of New York and his wife start to make their way toward them.

Santana nods then sighs. "As you Americans say, let's get this show on the road."

* * *

Brittany breathes through her mouth as she sits down on the floor to stretch her legs one last time.

There's only fifteen minutes until they are set to take the stage. She may have lost time for being late and taking a little too long to unknowingly talk to a prince but she managed to work it out.

She pulls her legs apart and leans forward to reach her toes on her right. She exhales deeply, staving off her nerves. She's anxious and to some extent, is prone to a panic attack any second. Her future lies on the back of this performance. Her dreams feel like they're hanging in front of her eyes. All hers for the taking.

Brittany hears a commotion. She glances side to side then behind her where she sees her troupe mates convening behind the curtain. Curious, she stands up and walk towards them.

"What's going on?"

"We're checking out the celebrities." Her redhead troupe mate whose name she can't remember answers her. "Someone said they saw Beyoncé!"

"Woah. Who else is there?"

"I don't know yet but I'm going to find out." Red retorts. "Hey! We take turns peeking, guys!"

"Oh my god! I see Leonardo DiCaprio!" One of the dancers declares. Some of them push the girl out of the way at the mention of the actor's name. In a moment of confusion, Brittany finds herself being pulled by Red to peek with her.

She hesitates but decides to take a gander anyway.

She first notices the huge room illuminated by golden lights, giving a regal vibe to the space. Her eyes rove around the numerous tables. Some of the guests seated are talking to people at their table. Some have just finished dinner. Some drinking champagne to their heart's content. She can see several handshakes occurring at the same time. She appreciates the fancy dresses and designer suits, wondering how much it must have cost them to fix themselves up for tonight.

"There he is! Around the middle. He's talking with some model and a boy, I think." The girl peeking from below her exclaims.

Brittany's eyes search the space. She surveys the middle section that serves as a dance floor and a place to hold everyone's conversation. Then her gaze lands on the handsome actor facing directly in their direction. True enough, he's talking with two other guests. A photographer takes a few snapshots of the conversation before moving on to someone else.

In front of the actor, stands a picturesque woman with caramel skin and wearing an attention grabbing red gown. By the looks of it, she does seem to be a supermodel. Unfortunately, the woman has her back towards them. The only thing Brittany can see is the woman's immaculate French twisted hairstyle.

She casts her glance up at the boy on the actor's right this time. Unlike earlier, she can recognize that boyish charm and innocent smile anywhere after their encounter. There stands Prince Diego of Spain. His hands clasped behind his back, intently listening to whatever the actor is saying.

Brittany glances at the woman again.

She remembers her brief conversation with the Prince. If she's correct, that must be the Prince's sister. Santana. That was her name. The one he said he was waiting for. Brittany assumes so judging by the way the woman carries herself, an elegance that exudes even from afar. A man approaching to shake the woman's hand then Prince Diego's, complete with a slight head bow, further proves the matter for Brittany.

Brittany can't see the Princess's face but she's sure, through his brother's looks and how everyone seems to take second glances at her as they pass by, that she's gorgeous. It's one thing to meet a real life Royal. But for them to actually look like a Disney type of Royal is quite an injustice to commoners like her.

Brittany prepares to move away from the curtain when she sees the Princess turn her head briefly to the side. To laugh at something her brother said. And for a second there, a brief split second, she might have seen Rosario's likeness in the woman. Brittany's eyebrows furrow. Her curiosity getting the best of her. She tries to get a good look at the woman's face again but to no avail.

Several people from the audience slowly make their way back to their seats. And with that, Brittany loses any chance to see the woman's face. She sighs, giving up. It wouldn't prove fruitful anyway. Sometimes the minds play tricks. Much like a starving person would imagine every single thing as cheeseburgers and ice cream to compensate for their hunger.

Brittany moves away from the curtain. The other girls pouncing to get her position just as quick. She walks back to the corner, hoping to do her last minute rituals in silence with only ten minutes to go until they perform.

"Shut up! It's Prince William and Kate Middleton!" One of the dancers cry out. The others push each other out of the way to get a glimpse of the Royal couple.

Brittany attempts to ignore them. She pulls out her water tumbler from her gym bag and drinks a hefty amount. Then she faces a wall. She closes her eyes, takes consecutive deep breaths, and strives to find a calm center. She imagines the crowd, the stage. It has to be all about the performance. Everything else disappears. It's just her, the imaginary spotlight, the stage, and the dance becoming one once she goes out there.

"Girl, that's also Prince Harry at the same table! Damn, he's hot!"

"He's talking to the model from earlier. She and the boy are sitting next to them. Who is she?"

"Where? The woman sitting and facing toward us? I can't see her face that well from here. I _literally_ love her red gown though."

"What are you blind? She's like, four tables away from the stage, girl."

"Maybe she's one of those foreign actors. Everybody keeps on approaching and shaking her hand and the boy's."

"No! I think I've seen her somewhere before."

"Me too! She looks so familiar."

"Oh, I know! She's that girl! That exchange student hot chick everyone talks about at school, right?"

Brittany's eyes fly open. She blinks a few times, gathering what she just heard from her troupe mates. There's only one person they have got to be referring to with that description. Seems like she's not the only one to see the likeness, after all.

"No way! It's only a resemblance. Like one of those sudden glance things when you look at someone."

"I think it's her but I really can't tell. Come on, why would an exchange student be sitting with a bunch of royals?"

"Wait! I'm sure Brittany knows." Red's familiar high voice echoes. Brittany glances over her shoulder at the mention of her name. Everyone stares at her.

"Brittany, isn't the exchange student girl at school your friend?" Red asks.

She tilts her head to the side and turns her body to face them. "Rosario?"

"No idea, girl. But you know her, right?" Red presses. Everyone waits for her answer.

"U-Uh… Yeah."

"Can you come here again and tell us if your friend is the woman at the audience? It's totally not her but these bitches need to hear it." Red smirks. The rest of the girls engage in a simultaneous debate in whispers.

Brittany purses her lips. She's new so might as well play along for now. She smiles shyly at no one in particular and marches toward them. The others make way for her to peek behind the curtains, casually waiting by the sides.

Brittany brushes the curtain away, just enough for her eyes to see everyone from the other side. By now, almost the entire audience is seated. Save for some important looking conversation occurring at certain corners of the room. She looks over the people again. Her eyes finding the specific table the girls mentioned. It takes her a few seconds but she finds it.

Her eyes lock on Prince William and Kate at first, both seated on the left side of the table from her line of sight. Then at Prince Harry on the other side of the table, engaging on an animated conversation with Prince Diego on his right.

"So? Who is it? Who's the boy and the woman? Have you found them?" Someone inquires.

Brittany nods to herself. She glances back at her eagerly waiting troupe mates. "The boy is Prince Diego of Spain."

Their eyes go wide in a humorous fashion. "How do you know that?" One of them asks.

"I ran into him earlier when I was lost."

"Shut up!" The same girl exclaims, impressed. "You're so lucky!" The others sport the same expression.

"And the woman? Who is she?" Another girl questions.

Brittany delays on answering. She peers back at the audience and attempts to find the table again.

"The prince said earlier that he's with his sister. So, I think that's her but I'm not a hundred percent sure." She tells no one in particular.

She casts her glance at the supposed Princess seated directly facing the stage. However, before Brittany can see anything, someone approaches the woman. The brunette turns sideways to offer a handshake and engage in a conversation. Brittany leans forward but she can only see so much from where she's standing. The Princess's left cheek and the back of her bun, to be exact. For what it's worth, and as far as she's managed to capture a glimpse, she really has quite the resemblance with Rosario.

"See? I told you it's not the exchange student chick. It's the freaking Princess of Spain!" Red chuckles. The others groan and move on to other topics.

Brittany continues to peek behind the curtain. Her gaze remains on the Princess, waiting for her to finish the conversation and face the stage. Out of curiosity, she thinks. A nagging thought whispering into her subconscious to stick around and see for herself, for reasons unknown to her. Almost an instinct she cannot grasp. A gut feeling.

"Brittany!"

The unmistaken commanding voice of Miss Hilda releases her from the stupor she's in. She immediately steps away from the curtain and turns around to see their adviser approaching her, wide smiles and all, with two guests in tow. The rest of her troupe mates scatter away, resuming their former activities prior to snooping.

"Y-Yes, ma'am?" Brittany utters. She stands straighter.

"Jim and Mary, I would like to introduce you to one of the best dancers in our troupe to date. This is Brittany Pierce." Miss Hilda proudly states, gesturing towards Brittany. "Brittany, Jim and Mary are our beloved friends from the American Jazz and Ballet Dance Company. They are your evaluators for your first audition."

Brittany's eyebrows raise. She feels the nerves coming back again, her heart drops a little bit at the mention of their purpose for tonight.

"Hello, Brittany. We've heard so much about you from Hilda. She's so proud of the troupe's achievements." Jim offers a hand. Brittany shakes it firmly.

"Yes. We're most excited to see your performance today. It's always a joy to see the troupe perform." Mary adds, mirroring the handshake.

Brittany smiles. "Thank you. It's an honor to audition for the dance company. I hope to do the consideration justice."

"We're sure you will. We hope we didn't make you too nervous by coming here. Mary and I always insist on meeting candidates before and after the performance."

Mary grins. "Yes. And speaking of that, we'll leave you to your devices and rituals. Don't forget to have fun out there."

"I won't, ma'am."

Jim and Mary bid goodbye and leave with Miss Hilda. Brittany takes a deep breath and returns to her spot. Shortly, Miss Hilda comes back and gathers them in a circle for final words and reminders. When the lights dim from the other side and the mic feed comes on, they take their assigned places. All of them whisper 'break a leg' to each other for one last time. The host begins introducing them.

Brittany takes her spot in the middle. She takes a final deep breath through her mouth, closing her eyes for a moment. She envisions herself as the lone dancer on the stage, alone in the entire place. The spotlight shining upon her when the curtains open, when she will begin to move along to the music. She clears her mind of everything except the burning passion inside her.

She opens her eyes. She smiles to herself, a smile conveying that she's about conquer the world from the stage. She assumes the appointed pose along with the others.

The curtains open.

* * *

Santana's heart is in her throat.

She's certain that she's about to faint any second now. She looks ahead and waits for the host to finish introducing tonight's intermission. As if deliberately creating suspense for her suffering.

She wonders in the brief second where Kurt has gone off to. Her assistant had been continuously persistent on bringing guests over to meet her. Anything to keep her occupied at all times to shield her from shifty eyes roaming about the small confines backstage where, as Kurt had told her, the dancers are waiting to perform. She's highly aware that such commoners would be curious to see the guests. She's conscious of the vulnerability her seat grants her from prying eyes. She knows that if this goes from bad to worse, she's to blame for ruining Brittany's future at that very stage.

But Santana is also familiar with Brittany's attitude to some extent. The blonde's intense need to focus on her task. Her desire to be left alone, to reflect and prepare herself mentally. Her indifference to such celebrity fanfare. Santana could only hope that this is the occurring situation.

And this time, the dread of being found out sets in full force. No escape. Nowhere to hide. She glances from side to side in the dimness of the grand ballroom. Not searching for anything in particular but something or anyone to grasp on for help.

Then it comes.

Kurt comes sauntering from behind her, lowering his body to avoid causing distraction. She notices several assistants also wondering about in the background, the person they approached following them out almost immediately.

"Your Highness," Kurt whispers beside her. "they are asking to have a photo of representatives from the royal families present tonight outside the hall. They're hoping to get one before intermission ends for security purposes."

Santana blinks. Then a flash of recognition. "W-What?"

"I may or may not have suggested that it would be best to have the picture when everyone is seated to avoid any unwanted commotion."

"You are the light of my life, Hummel."

"I know, darling." He retorts, smirking as he stands up.

Santana excuses herself from the table to follow Kurt. Before exiting the ballroom, she stops in her tracks to watch the scene unfold at the stage. Kurt stands beside her to follow her gaze.

She watches how the curtain spreads out in an almost slow motion fashion. The spotlight focusing on the dancers. And to Santana's surprise, there stands the stunning Brittany Pierce in the middle front. A spectacle for everyone to see. A privilege for everyone to witness. The bright light's impact of instant semi-blindness takes its effect on the dancers from seeing the audience for a moment's time.

"She's precious." Santana smiles once Brittany begins to move.

"She is." He responds. They continue to watch for a few more seconds before Kurt ushers Santana outside to meet the others.

A few greetings take place, several regards to each other's family. Santana has never been one to socialize with the others aside from formal events like this. She's always kept to herself and maintained a professional stance on things. It's something the King and Queen have lectured her about time and time again. Saying that preserving a good relationship with the other families would entitle a smooth path to better agreements and understanding. It's something she has to work on, she agrees.

It's something Diego is a natural of. Having regular conversations with distant relatives or being a pro on talking to the likes of Royals his own age and sometimes her own. She envies his innocent charm. Along with being mature for his own age, he can also be quite the easygoing and fun teenager that he's supposed to. A born leader like she is. He still has a lot to learn as regards his royal duties. Still on the naiveté side that his age provides him. But still, he possesses the qualities that would make him a good man. And in matters of that bear no effect nor possibility, Santana thinks Diego would make a great King.

They arrange themselves in random order. Jordan. England. Belgium. Sweden. Spain. Brunei. There are only six of them present but the volume of security watching every exit, every corner, or merely surrounding them is apt for a bus full of people.

She never really extended above and beyond the courtesy she gives them. Except for those she sort of grew up with in the limelight like Harry, Hussein, or Madeleine. All she can contribute is her abrasiveness and aloofness. And Santana's mindful that being closed off does not make a good Queen.

Several flashes go off in successive shots. Santana maintains her smile for what must have been a complete minute. When the photographers mark themselves satisfied with the pictures, they let the Royals go.

A brief conversation with everyone ensues to ease the awkwardness. The others stroll back to the grand ballroom, hoping to catch the remainder of the performance and take their seats before the lights come on again. Santana takes this chance to pull Kurt into a corner for a private chat.

"We need to leave, Kurt."

"Now?"

"Yes. It's the perfect time. Brittany's still on stage. I have met everyone there is to meet. Have made an appearance to last the paparazzi a whole month's worth of material. I'm all talked out. I have paid my dues tonight."

"But what about the artworks? I thought that's one of your saving graces for tonight. The bidding won't start for another hour."

"Oh, yes. In that case, kindly tell them to take that Rembrandt from the bidding list. And the swan painting from that up and coming artist Kellerman. I liked that one."

Kurt nods. "Alright then. If you really wish to leave, then I will need you to say goodbye to some people once the performance is over-"

"But we can't waste any more time, Kurt. Brittany might see me."

"And I agree with you. But it's common courtesy, Your Highness. One of those people you might have overlooked at some point might go tattling to the Queen about being ignored. We wouldn't want that." He argues. "It's just five or six people. It's only five minutes of your time. After you say your goodbyes to the British Royal family at the table then we can leave at once."

Santana sighs. "What about Diego? Is he coming with us?"

"Let me ask him. I'll take care of everything. For now, make your rounds of goodbyes so we can leave. You'll have ten minutes, max."

She nods, defeated.

A rapturous applause erupts from the grand ballroom. Santana missed the rest of the performance but she's certain Brittany was every bit the star that she is.

They walk back to the grand ballroom just as the lights come back on.

* * *

Brittany can barely contain herself.

She wants to shout from the rooftops. She wants to jump around for joy. She wants to scream from the top of her lungs. Brittany gave the performance her all and boy, did she deliver! She knows to herself that she had done a wonderful job. And so did her evaluators from the dance company when they returned backstage a minute or two after the performance to congratulate her. They said that they were thoroughly impressed and to be honest, so is Brittany with herself.

She may have let the initial nerves get to her but now, she feels like she can rule the world. She feels the sheer bliss running through her veins, the adrenaline rush still taking its effect on her. She can feel herself vibrating off her feet. All those years of hard work, those hardships in her life had finally paid off. The bruises, scratches, and every backlash she received before had finally, _finally_ , paid off. She earned this, goddamn it! She deserves this!

Her troupe mates congratulate her and the rest of the girls who also had their auditions today for other dance companies. Most of them loitering in the background, taking pictures and laughing at random things.

Brittany saunters back to her bag to take out her water tumbler again, emptying the contents this time. She breathes as deeply as she can, attempting to rein in her spilling emotions. Her hand still shakes from the sheer delight of the performance. Happy tears at the back of her eyes begin to form. She covers her face with both hands, letting go of a few tears. She brushes them off almost instantly and sighs again, chuckling.

Brittany itches to share the good news to her friends. Her family. Surely they must feel the same glee she's feeling. Her mom might even throw a barbecue in her honor. And her friends? She might as well prepare for the worst hangover happening tomorrow.

Brittany's thoughts go back to Rosario. The girl has probably no inkling that she has an audition today. Even then, Rosario would be the first person to pull her in for the tightest hug possible. The brunette has to be the first one to know about it.

Brittany fishes her phone out of her bag, searches for Rosario's number, then dials it. Unlike earlier when she couldn't get through at all, this time Brittany hears ringing but no one answers. Maybe Rosario's home already. Maybe she's cooking with Brad right now. She remembers the brunette telling her something about the both of them always making dinner together to that effect. An automated voice instructs her to leave a voicemail instead.

"U-Uh… Hi, Rosario. I've been trying to call you a few times. Brad said you're out with your relatives or something. He told me you'll be back home for dinner. I just- I have a lot of stories to tell you about today." She pauses. "And I miss you, that's all. Call me back when you can." She ends the call.

Brittany sighs. She misses the girl so much it pains her. It's weird, she thinks. She only saw her yesterday. But the need to see the girl, the need to kiss her, be close to her. It scares and excites Brittany all the same. She's never felt like this. She's never been the clingy type. Or one who actively seeks out to be with someone. But with Rosario? It's different. It's easy. It feels right.

Brittany smiles to herself at the thought of Rosario's own smile. She can't wait to see that smile again. God, the brunette's beauty is too immaculate to put into words for her. She could sing praises all day and night but it wouldn't do the girl justice. Brittany sighs again. She doesn't want to say it yet but she's positive that she more than likes Rosario. It's not some flimsy schoolgirl crush anymore. She's fallen for Rosario.

"Hey, Brittany!" One of the dancers calls out from the side. She glances to her left to see all of them packing their things. "We're all heading out for drinks with Miss Hilda. It's on the troupe's fund. Come join us!"

"We always go out after every performance. It's fun because it's free!" A passing blonde chimes in.

"Everyone gets drunk. We have this tradition that all new members need to take five consecutive shots of tequila. Or risk getting cut!" Another one joins in.

"W-What?" Brittany's eyebrows raise.

"Oh, don't believe her. She's messing with you!" A brunette exclaims, the others chuckle. "Come join us. It's nice to have a new member in the group. We're all so sick of each other's faces."

Brittany stalls on answering. Sure, going out with her troupe mates seems fun. It would be great, actually. Then she looks down on her phone again. The person she'd like to see most right now is Rosario. She _needs_ to see Rosario.

"Uhmm… I have to go meet someone, actually. It's really important." She smiles. "Rain check?"

"Sure, girl. We'll be at Ken's bar if you feel like dropping by." The brunette from earlier offers, grinning.

Brittany nods. She picks up her bag from the floor and bids everyone a quick goodbye. She dials Rosario's number again, receiving the same instruction for a voicemail, as she leaves backstage.

"Hey! The performance just ended a few minutes ago. I was hoping you and I could talk." Brittany pauses. She looks up, seeing different exits being guarded by security leading God knows where. They all look the same. And unfortunately for her, she doesn't remember which one she came from to get backstage.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

She peeks to the far side of the corridor and sees an unguarded door. Maybe that's their assigned exit? It looks familiar enough and as far as she can remember she walked through that corridor earlier. She shrugs and makes way for it.

"Anyway," She starts speaking through the receiver again. "I'm coming over to your place. I'll just wait in the lobby if you still aren't around." She passes through the door, unaware that she turned into the wrong exit.

"I can't wait to see you." She adds before ending the call, wide smiles and all.

* * *

"Kurt." Santana whispers loud enough for her assistant to hear. She gives him a signal with her eyebrows and motions to the door, indicating that a bit of haste would be appreciated from his part.

She had just finished her round of goodbyes. The utter desperation to leave the event is an understatement no words can convey. She stands at the outskirts of the grand ballroom, waiting for her frantic assistant to pick up the rest of her shortcomings in their early departure. Her security prepares to leave, gathering around her.

Kurt comes plodding toward her, clearly out of his wits. "Give me a second to breathe here, Your Highness. I just pulled off everything there is to handle in five minutes." He sighs deeply, shaking his head. "It's a goddamn miracle. I deserve a raise."

"No time to breathe. Let's go." She starts to walk toward the exit intended for guests. Kurt catches up to her. "The dancers might come out to join the event. Or they might peek again behind those blinders. We can't risk it."

"You're being paranoid, Princess."

"I'm not." She retorts with a biting tone. "Where's Diego?"

"Doing the last of his round of goodbyes. It will be quick. He'll be with us in a minute or two. He says he will meet you at the lobby. You have to walk out together for the cameras."

Santana nods. Even if there's the smallest of possibility that Brittany would see her, there's no way Santana's going to take that chance. Not here, not right now. She mentally prepares herself ahead for the ordeal she will be facing tonight. She can no longer hide behind this 'Rosario' secret. She is not and has never been a coward. She has to tell Brittany in person tonight.

Suddenly, an instinct arises from her train of thought. More like, a gut feeling. A bout of nervousness sets in again but she tries to put it aside, chucking it to another impending red carpet scene with the paparazzi.

Santana and Kurt walk the few steps left to the lobby. A mostly deserted place since all the guests and their entourage have either moved to the grand ballroom or the gallery. There's only Kurt, the guards, and her. Almost there, Santana thinks. Looks like she'll survive this in one piece, after all. All that's left to do is wait for Diego.

They have barely stayed put for more than a few seconds when someone calls out for her. An initial fear streams through her body.

"Your Highness," the voice greets. "leaving so soon, are you?"

Santana and Kurt turn to see a Mr. Jameson approaching them from another exit. She ponders to herself just how many entrances and exits are there in this place. As best as she can recall from meeting him earlier, he's one of the board members of the museum. She motions for the guards to relax and let the old man with balding hair approach her.

She leans to the side, motioning for Kurt to come closer.

"Can you go find Diego, please? And tell him to hurry up." She mutters under her breath. Kurt nods and scatters away. Santana looks back in front just in time to see the man arrive at her spot.

"A-Ah. Mr. Jameson, hello again." She extends her hand which he takes. "Yes. I'm afraid I have to leave early. Home calls. A touch of jetlag too."

"That's a shame. We have a few pieces that I'm sure you will like. You know how much we appreciate your family's love for art."

Santana glances to her left and sees Kurt and Diego approaching with his horde of guards from afar.

"And you spoil us with it." She retorts, chuckling with Mr. Jameson. "I had my assistant purchase the Rembrandt and Kellerman piece for me. My father will surely love it."

"Ah! Lovely paintings!" He declares, clasping his hands together. "In that case, please send my regards to His and Her Majesty."

"I will." She smiles.

"Before I let you go, is it safe to assume that we shall see you at this year's Gala?" Mr. Jameson inquires, leaning forward.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry, sir. I think I'm at the wrong exit." A familiar woman's voice murmurs in the background.

Santana freezes instantly. Her eyes open wide at the recognition. She feels her heart drop from the top of a skyscraper. She finds herself unable to move. She stops breathing all together.

Then the inevitable happens. The moment she's been fearing all night.

"Rosario?" Brittany calls out in the most unsure tone Santana's heard from somewhere behind her.

Santana fights the urge to look, to turn, to answer to a false name. But she fails. She slowly looks over her right shoulder, almost painful, and locks eyes with the one and only Brittany Pierce.

* * *

Brittany is in a daze.

It's one thing to get lost in the museum for the second time today. Another to retrace her steps back to the lobby where she came from earlier. Another to almost bump _again_ into what seems to be a mob of never ending security in this place on her way to the exit.

But to see Rosario here is a bit hard to comprehend in theory.

She couldn't be mistaken. The coincidence of seeing her here is too great a chance to take for granted. It was in the corner of her eyes, when a slight opening in between two guards gave her the leeway to see who they're protecting. She saw the woman's face clearly from the sides.

Brittany blinks. She has to make sure that her eyes aren't deceiving her. It could be a dream but she's far too off in reality to think otherwise.

"Rosario?" She calls for her again when their eyes meet.

The shock on Rosario's face reminds her of someone who had just had a heart attack. The way the brunette's eyes go comically wide makes her break out into a chuckle. The last time Brittany looked at her reflection, she didn't resemble any movie monster or a fictional serial killer to give off such a reaction.

Brittany asks, "What are you doing-"

"Your Highness?" The old man declares. "Shall we expect you at the Gala?" His whole attention on Rosario, not even paying Brittany any mind.

The brunette remains unmoving in her spot, the look of someone who'd rather be anywhere but here right now. She appears to be torn in the fleeting moment between addressing Brittany and answering the old man's concerns. She chooses the latter.

"We shall see, Mr. Jameson." Rosario musters a forced smile. She adds something in low whispers to the old man. With that, he lowers his head, shakes her hand, then scurries away.

Brittany watches the whole exchange in bewilderment. She feels like Dorothy realizing that she's not in Kansas anymore in terms of confusion. She tosses the nagging feeling making itself known once again to the side. Who was that old man Jameson? Why did she call Rosario 'Your Highness'? Was he being sarcastic like Brad when it comes to Rosario? Why did he shake her hand?

Brittany shrugs, disregarding it all. She couldn't care less, she just happy to see the brunette. Rosario takes a few seconds, as if watching out for other people in the lobby, before facing her again.

"Hi." Rosario mutters. But she's not smiling.

Brittany takes this as a permission to approach the brunette. She takes a step forward only for the guards to stop her. They look down at her with an ominous gaze.

" _Dejarla ir."_ Rosario commands. The security immediately stands down.

Brittany's forehead creases. What is up with these men in suits? It's not as if she's going to hurt Rosario with her frail body compared to their hulking bodies of protein shakes.

"Hey," Brittany starts as she hesitantly makes her way to Rosario. "I was just coming over to see you at your apartment."

"Y-You were?"

"Yeah. I left you a voicemail. Our performance just ended and I wanted to see you. Brad said you'd be back for dinner." She rambles on before catching on to Rosario's uneasiness. "Are you okay? You seem spacey."

The brunette clears her throat. "Yes. I'm okay."

Brittany squints her eyes. There's something different about Rosario. The brunette stands a bit straighter than usual, a tad more poised. She looks like someone you'd hold in high regard. She looks like one of those people you wouldn't want to talk to for fear of being intimidated.

There's something peculiar about this. It's at the back of Brittany's mind but she can't put it together.

"I had no idea you'd be attending this event. Were your relatives here? Did you see the dance?"

"No." Rosario summons a split-second smile. "Can we talk somewhere private? I need to tell you something."

"Oh. Sounds serious." She comments, shoulders slouching. A sinking feeling in her stomach follows.

"It is." The brunette retorts, motioning to a corner.

"Can I get a kiss first?" Brittany tries to turn the serious mood around, grinning all dopey. She leans forward and attempts to get close to Rosario but the latter quickly moves away. By now, Brittany's patience has started to wear out with all of Rosario's weird shenanigans.

"Okay, what is going on, Rosario?" She trains a stern eye on the girl.

Rosario swallows a lump in her throat, sighing deeply. The brunette looks at the ground then at Brittany, minimizing the small space between them.

"I-I'm-" Rosario whispers. "I-I'm sorry, Britt."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Brittany presses, puzzled. She places her hands over the brunette's.

A look of devastation flashes across Rosario's face. "I-I haven't been honest about who I am. I-I'm _so_ , _so_ sorry." She adds, choked up.

Brittany blinks, shaking her head. "I don't understand. What do you mean you haven't been honest? What are you talking about, Rosario?"

From the corner of Brittany's eye, several men in suits enter the lobby.

Brittany casts her glance to the left. She sees Brad approaching with the bodyguards in tow. Upon further inspection, she notices a boy walking beside him. A boy whom she'd recognize anywhere.

"Princess, we're all ready to go." Brad utters as he saunters toward them, seeing only Rosario's back and unaware of Brittany's presence hidden from sight behind one of the bodyguards.

"Santana," Prince Diego's voice echoes around the space. "Harry and William invited me to train polo with them next weekend. They're going to help me work on my swings. Right, Kurt?" He continues excitedly. Brad nods.

When no one answers, Brad takes a step forward and speaks.

"Your Highness? We're ready to go-" He cuts himself off at once upon seeing Brittany standing alongside Rosario. He sports the same staggered expression the brunette had a few minutes ago.

"What is going on?" Diego chimes in. Utter surprise flash on his face when he sees Brittany as well.

Brittany remains immobile. She moves her gaze from one person to another. She still doesn't understand what's happening here but there has to be a common denominator to all of this. What did Rosario mean when she said 'sorry'? Why is Rosario here? Why is Prince Diego with Brad? Why does everyone keep calling Rosario 'Your Highness' or 'Santana'?

She rummages through her memories, anything to help her out. Surely there's an answer to this madness. She searches, searches, and searches for everything and anything. Then it comes back to her all at once.

 _"They are quite the duo, aren't they? Makes you wonder how they became that close. How come we're not that inseparable, Britt?"_

 _"I'll have to run it with Brad first…"_

 _"But her entourage are at her beck and call, reminding her of every little thing she has to do. The bodyguard at the exit portrays that she cannot escape her life. The King and Queen's reflection suggests a strong presence of making sure the princess is always in line. Doesn't that show that she has no freedom whatsoever?"_

 _"I've never met someone who makes me feel so intimidated. And believe me, I've met my share of intimidating people."_

 _"Yes. I have undergone military training when I was eighteen. It's sort of… required. At least, for my family."_

 _"Only a younger brother. He's twelve."; "_ _Diego is a mature kid with an old soul."_

 _"My family is a prominent one in Spain, Brittany. Our movements generate a lot of talk in certain circles and I'm a bit of a wild card back home."_

 _"I don't have much of a choice. I have to take over the family business.";_ _"I'm set to take over seeing that I'm the eldest child. It's an extremely huge responsibility, one that I've been groomed for since I was a child, almost as if the whole world's eyes are upon me once I take the stage."_

 _"It is Kurt's recipe. He taught me how to make them back in Madrid…"_

 _"Who are you waiting for?", "My sister."; "My sister's name is Santana."_

That's why Rosario and Brad are almost always together.

That's the reason for the constant head bowing toward Rosario's way.

That's why they weren't that responsive to their names during the first few weeks she's known them.

That's the reason for the accidental slips here and there.

That's why they have those knowing and frightened glances whenever talks of Royal families arise during conversations.

That's the reason for Rosario being so intensely guarded with her privacy and secrets.

And then it all clicks.

Things suddenly become clear to her. Things begin to make sense now. Every little thing becomes evident.

Brittany tries to breathe but the air around her becomes scarce. She stares at the brunette in front of her. She feels her heart sink to the deepest of seas. She feels like crying. Brittany takes a step back from Rosario and looks up to meet everyone's eyes on her.

It must have been the change of expression on her face. The astonishment shining through from both parties. They know that she _knows._

Brittany has discovered the truth.

Rosario is Santana. Santana is the princess. Rosario is _the_ princess.

* * *

 **I genuinely want to know what your thoughts are about this chap. Drop a review for me, will you? :)**

 **Next chapter is a bit heartbreaking, folks. We still got 6-7 chapters left before this fic ends.**


	12. Chapter 12

**I know it's been a month. I'll try to make up for my absence. Thanks for the reviews, you guys. Can't appreciate them enough :)**

 **Little warning: Angst will most _definitely_ commence.**

* * *

"Y-You-" Brittany's lips quiver, eyes blinking rapidly. "Y-You're a princess?"

Brittany tastes the venom coming out of her words. The tears welling up in her eyes. The shortness of her breath. The intense shaking of her body. That stab in the back digging through her bones. She chews the inside of her cheek and tries her best not to break down or show any emotion. She feels like an idiot. She feels like dying of humiliation. She's so hurt she could feel her heart shattering into a hundred pieces.

She looks up to meet their eyes. How can these- these wicked people toy with her emotions, with her life? She feels the harmony of anger and disappointment and betrayal and misery crushing her spirits. It takes over her entire being.

Rosario or Santana or whoever the hell she is takes a step toward her. The brunette's distraught face not hiding her true feelings.

"B-Britt," Rosario croaks out. "I can explain myself."

"E-Explain yourself? What for?! I don't even know who you are anymore!" Brittany lets out an exasperated sigh, eyebrows drawn tightly together.

"I'm still the same person. Just…"

"Just what?! Are they in this too?" Brittany motions to Diego and Brad. "What even is your name, _Brad_?"

Brad looks down in shame. "K-Kurt. It's Kurt."

Brittany clicks her tongue, shaking her head. "And you," She points to Diego. "were you acting like you didn't know a goddamn thing earlier?"

Diego blinks. "N-No. I wasn't-"

"Is my life a game to all of you?! Is this one of your past times when you people get bored?"

Before 'Brad' and the Prince get to chime in, Rosario beats them to it. "No. It was all my idea from the start. I had no plans of involving you in this mess. They had nothing to do with this."

Brittany's eyebrows furrow, nostrils flaring. "I cannot believe you! What is this, a ploy to get me to sleep with you?"

"No. It's never been a game to me." Rosario retorts, frazzled.

"But I'm right, aren't I? You're _her_. You're his sister." Brittany motions to Prince Diego. "You're a princess, aren't you?"

"Britt-"

"Tell me, Rosario! I want to hear it!" Brittany utters with a commanding tone. She swallows the lump in her throat and maintains her tough façade.

Rosario clinches her jaw.

"Tell me who you really are. Tell me the truth. I want to hear it from you."

Rosario takes a deep breath. She glances at the ground, closing her eyes for a moment. She looks back up at Brittany. The agony drawn upon her features.

"Y-Yes. I am a princess. My real name is Santana-"

"Oh god." Brittany sighs audibly, slapping a hand on her forehead.

A thought crosses the blonde's mind. A simple detail that she may have overlooked. A single point that will alter her perception even worse. Brittany forces herself to meet the brunette's gaze.

"I-If you're older than him, d-does that make you-" She trails off, letting her fill in the blanks.

Rosario, or having confirmation now of her true identity, _Santana_ smiles in defeat. She nods slowly, as if to affirm the blonde's suspicion.

"The Crown Princess." She mutters. "I-I will become Queen, yes."

"Oh my god…" Brittany's face contorts to that of pure anguish. Comprehension dawns on her. She looks up and attempts to rein in the tears but to no avail. She feels so betrayed that words fail her beyond recognition. It's as if her heart were suddenly taken out of her chest and ran over by a bus and back again.

Santana takes another hesitant step forward. Brittany notices it and moves back, holding up a hand to stop the brunette from any more advancement.

"How can you do this to me? M-My family welcomed you into our home!"

"I-I was going to tell you everything tonight!" Santana whisper screams. "Believe me, I was going to confess the whole truth."

"You lied to me! How can I believe you when these past few months have all been a lie?!"

"I only lied about who _I_ was. Everything else that I've told you was the truth, Britt. It was all real to me. Please believe me."

Brittany stares deep into Santana's eyes. She reflects on how she gazed at them not too long ago, how she let herself be sucked into those beautiful brown orbs when they spent the night together. Now, looking at the same person but not necessarily at the _same_ person. She wonders if they're still as genuine and bright as they once were.

"You lied to me. I trusted you." Brittany speaks in the softest way possible. The tears brimming in her eyes finally letting itself go as they come trickling down. She allows herself to break down in front of the brunette, face scrunched up, not able to hold carry the weight of her feelings any longer.

Santana closes her glassy eyes for a quick second, reining in her own tears. "I-I had no choice. I had to hide who I was to b-blend in-"

"I'm sure you had your own reasons but it doesn't hurt any less." Brittany pouts just as a tear falls down on her cheek.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm _so, so_ sorry." Santana bites her lip to prevent herself from weeping. Santana makes a step toward Brittany again. But this time, Brittany gently slaps her hands away from the brunette.

The move immediately draws attention from the bodyguards surrounding them. They stare down at Brittany and prepare to remove her from the Princess. The blonde's eyes widen in fear at the sight of them advancing. She backtracks a few steps, almost hitting a priceless vase, when Santana cuts in.

"Don't come near her!" Santana declares, anger laced in her tone.

The guards stall on standing down for a moment. It wasn't until 'Brad' nods at them that they move aside, assuming their previous position of surrounding them.

Santana promptly comes to Brittany's side but the latter brushes her away.

"Brittany, I-"

"No, please. Just stop." She utters through the tears.

How much of all this was a lie? There is no _Rosario Cruz_. There is only Santana, the Crown Princess of Spain. Is there even a _Rosario_ in Santana or was that all a ruse, a fake identity? Was it _all_ a lie?

Brittany shakes her head in vehemence. She takes a deep breath. She meets the brunette's glance with a heartbroken but scornful look.

"Y-You broke my heart, Santana. Please don't ever come near me again." She croaks out through the tears. The foreign name tasting like poison in her tongue. "Y-You broke my heart." She adds in the most distraught tone a human being could produce.

Brittany holds her bag tighter against her. And without saying anything else, she wiggles her way out of the spot she's in and head towards the exit she entered the first time around. She walks briskly along the sides of the red carpet, in all her unnoticed glory, eyes landing on the paparazzi waiting for celebrities and VIPs leaving the event.

This wretched museum has given her the best memories with _Rosario_ and yet the worst one with _Santana._

Brittany ignores the desperate calls behind her. She lets Santana's voice fall on deaf ears. She allows her tears to fall and fall and fall, to allow herself to feel the pain.

* * *

Santana feels like dying.

She feels her heart shattering, world crumbling down, body becoming numb.

The thought of Brittany walking away is an image that bears more sorrow than she can ever imagine. To watch Brittany walk away from her is a feeling of a hundred thorns pricking her entire being. Letting Brittany walk away, as if it's the last time they'll ever encounter each other, is the most helpless she's felt in her whole life.

Santana had always known that somehow and in some way it would come to this point. She had come so close to getting out of the museum unscathed that it's still a doozy on how the universe works to bring you back to reality. A slap in the face, by all means.

And now, to watch Brittany disappear before her very eyes, to watch the woman she's fallen in love with cry and tell her to her face that she's broken her heart is something that Santana will never forgive herself for. It's a memory that Santana will never, _ever_ let herself live down.

"Santana…" Kurt's voice interrupts her thoughts. She looks up to see her assistant and Diego staring back at her with pity in their eyes.

"W-What?" She mumbles, carefully wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

"I'm sorry but we have to go. The limo is waiting outside." Kurt motions to the red carpet, unsure how to address the urgency in his words.

Santana follows his line of sight. She's put up with the publicity of it all since she was a young girl. A pro at handling it by the time she took her first step in boarding school. But for her to continue on with this crap of a job, of a life at times, while still hurting over Brittany is plain ridiculous. The blonde left not more than two minutes ago, the air still has a whiff of her fruity fragrance, _dios mio_!

Santana sighs, looking down at the ground. The inadvertent memory of Brittany crying comes back to her. She feels another prick on her heart. This time, deeper and more excruciating. Surely there's something she can do. Anything at all.

She could never convince Brittany that she was honest about everything she said. At least not right now. Words aren't her friends for the moment. Any and all of it would render nothing. But perhaps taking action is another thing? Taking the initiative, the risk to prove to Brittany that she's _so_ worth it.

Santana looks up at the doors leading to the red carpet. The pain in her expression earlier replaced by a momentary realization. She faces the doors, turning her back on Kurt and Diego. She revels in heavy contemplation at the prospect of such an action. Perhaps she could do it. Perhaps it's the right thing to do.

"Whatever you're thinking," Kurt speaks up again in a cautionary tone. "don't even try to do it, Your Highness."

Santana peers over her shoulder. She ignores his wordless warning and the way he's looking at her as if she's about to do the biggest mistake of her life.

"Santana…" Diego chimes in with a whisper. She gazes at her brother and sees him shake his head in an ever so gentle manner.

Santana fixes her attention in front again. Damn it all. Damn this caged life.

If she were to barge in that door and run after Brittany, then it would definitely be open season for the paparazzi. The moment they see her running after an unknown blonde, doing everything she can to convince her to let her explain, or just the simple fact of not acting like a Royal because of a stranger? It would be the start of the end. Not as if everything feels like it ended already.

But.

She cannot run after Brittany _here_. She cannot chase Brittany and ask for forgiveness _here._ She cannot risk exposing herself to everyone _here_.

Santana could not care less about what happens to her. She's beyond that now. She's beyond broken to care about anything but Brittany at this moment. As much as she wants to do everything she can to make things right, she can't. Santana would never forgive herself for putting Brittany on the spot, in front of so many people, in such a public place.

The last thing she'd want is to have those hungry sharks run after Brittany around the clock. To pave the way for such a despicable way of living that Santana has fought hard to break free. The life she has back in Spain. The life she escaped from that led her to meet the most amazing woman she's ever met and has now lost.

Santana takes a deep breath. She casts her glance on the floor and finally lets out the tears she's been holding back. The sorrow and misery hitting her all at once. She covers a hand across her face and muffles the heartbreaking sound of her cries. Even at her lowest, no one should see her mourn.

Momentarily, she feels a hand grazing her back. Kurt comes up to her left followed by Diego on her right. They flash her a forlorn look.

"I'm sorry but we have to go, Princess." Kurt murmurs in the most hesitant tone she's ever heard of him.

"I'm sorry, Santana." Diego whispers, wiping a few tears from Santana's cheek.

Santana turns to face him and musters a constrained smile while shaking her head. She exhales deeply, fixing herself up to hide any marks of her crying, and stands straight again. Assuming her usual stance as if nothing happened when deep inside she feels crushed into pieces.

"You don't have to leave that way. We can walk out the back-" Kurt argues but is cut off.

Santana stares at him. Cold heartbroken brown eyes meeting her assistant's. "We can't. We both know I can't, Kurt."

Kurt nods once with utmost hesitation. He gestures the guards to prepare for her exit as he leads the way.

Santana closes her eyes for a brief second, trying to get a hold of herself. The brunette's eyes flicker to Diego, subtly signaling him that she's ready to go. Diego catches on and takes the initiative to go through the exit first with her trailing three steps behind.

Santana compartmentalizes every single thing like she always does once the paparazzi and everyone else lay their eyes on her at the red carpet. She locks the whole whirlwind of emotions she's felt these past few minutes in a little box and throws them into oblivion. She replaces the anguish and her self-contempt with a big smile for show. For the public.

With Diego standing by her side, the same fake smile plastered upon his face, they make their exit in an almost painfully slow manner. As they reach the end of the red carpet, a flurry of rowdy paparazzi, shouting as if their life depended on it, tries to get close to them but fail to do so with the help of their combined security battalion.

Amidst the blinding lights, Santana manages to look far into the streets of Manhattan. Searching for a specific vision. Hoping for a mere chance to see Brittany from afar.

The endless blocks and turns are littered with strangers roaming around, eager to get from one place to another. City dwellers who could not care less about this pompous fancy event. Commoners who Santana would very much want to _be_ right now.

Santana could see Brittany walking away in haste with her back towards them. A block away from where they are. The blonde, dressed down to her dark jeans and navy sweater, may seem like one of those random strangers to anyone else. But to Santana, she can recognize the blonde anywhere. No matter how distant or crowded it may seem.

Santana's stare drops to the ground, a gloomy feeling striking her core. How hurtful it is to watch the person who could very well be the love of her life slip away right before her very eyes. She pushes the heavy sentiment aside and musters everything in her to focus on the task at hand. To put a face for everyone to see.

In a moment, Diego hastily gets in his designated limo with his assistant following suit. As a protocol, they cannot ride the same car for safety purposes. Her own limo comes up to the front just as quick and with a cue from Kurt, they enter it.

Santana resigns herself to a void of nothingness as the car pulls out of the valet line. She can feel Kurt's stare on her. A sign that he's thinking of a hundred ways to comfort her. A hundred words to say that he knows will fail to offer a solution. But he wouldn't do any of that. With everything they've been through together, Kurt knows by now that the best way for Santana to recover is to offer silence. To let her reflect with the solitude it grants her.

Santana lets her body fall limp against the car seat, head falling to the side facing the sidewalk on their right. She watches the legion of people pass before her eyes, a lifeless state she revels in.

And then she sees Brittany crossing to another block from a distance, roughly a block away.

She sits up immediately at the sight of the blonde. Kurt takes notice of her sudden movement. He follows her gaze and sees Brittany with her hands in her sweater pockets fighting off the chill outside.

As the limo inches closer to where Brittany is, Santana's heart pounds harder by the second. Surely there's something she can do. Perhaps she can talk to the dancer for a minute. Or offer a ride back home to Bushwick where she and Santana could talk. The chance to take action is being handed to her on a silver platter.

"Your Highness," Kurt trails off. "whatever it is you think of doing. Don't."

Santana glances at him. The thought has yet to cross her mind but Kurt may just have paved the road towards an idea. She contemplates the implication of walking up to Brittany in the middle of goddamn Manhattan. Dressed to the nines. The paparazzi not far behind but out of their coverage. The truth of who she is out in the open.

It's a risk. An action that could definitely land her in hot water with a disastrous outcome. An impulsive move that she's highly capable of. But still, this may just be her last time to talk to Brittany. For all she knows, this is her last chance to take action.

"Pull over." Santana declares.

"Your Royal Highness?" Pablo the driver inquires. He glances at her from the rearview mirror with confusion drawn over his face.

"I said, pull over." She answers. Her tone authoritative.

The limo passes Brittany a few meters ahead. Santana looks behind to see the blonde sporting the same derisive expression from a while ago.

"No." Kurt cuts in, addressing both Pablo and Santana. "We are not pulling over. We are heading straight to the hotel."

"It is not your decision to make, Kurt." She gazes back at Pablo again. "Pablo, stop the car."

"Do not stop the car!" Kurt cries out then faces Santana who regards him with indifference. This isn't Kurt her best friend. This is Kurt the Royal Assistant to the Crown Princess. "I can't allow you to do anything rash. I have strict orders to-"

Santana opens the car door, prompting the limo to stop almost instantly.

Without missing a beat, she alights it. She ignores Kurt's shouting and shuts the door behind her. The crowd moves against her, a few them taking a curious glance while the others continue on their way never paying her any attention. She searches for Brittany at the multitude of people and like a needle in a haystack, finds her walking her way.

"Brittany!" Santana shouts. She walks briskly among the horde, ignoring the faint calls behind her.

Brittany looks up at the mention of her name. It was too clear, too familiar that it could not have been something from her imagination. She surveys the crowd in an all too curious manner. In the middle of it all, like a spotlight shining upon a beautiful woman, she finds Santana. They almost collide but Brittany moves in time to hold the princess back from barreling toward her.

"B-Brittany, I… I-I'm-" Santana stutters. Flabbergasted, words are a tad difficult to find at the moment.

"W-What are you doing here?" Brittany gasps, mirroring the brunette's thunderstruck expression. Brittany glances behind her, fearing for any kind of mobbing that may ensue at the thought of a freaking Princess with no bodyguards in sight.

"Please let u-us talk. I will tell you the whole truth." Santana says, breathless. Her accent more apparent than ever. A melancholic expression on her face. She reaches for the blonde's hands and takes them in hers. The sudden closeness reliving wonderful memories. Happy memories that seem so long ago.

Brittany frowns, taking a glimpse at their intertwined hands. Oh, how it reminded her of the night they spent together. The intimacy of it all. The painful lie behind it.

"N-No. I don't think we should." Brittany mumbles.

Santana looks up and catches a sight in the distance. As it seems, several eagle-eyed paparazzi are gazing curiously at their direction. It could be her red gown sticking like a sore thumb among the sea of people or her bodyguards and Kurt hurrying to get to her side.

"N-No, please. Let me explain myself. I beg of you." Santana rambles, finding it difficult to translate the words she means to say in English given the gravity of the situation.

Brittany doesn't respond and only averts her eyes away from the brunette.

"What do I have to do, Brittany? I will do anything you want. _Should_ I kneel or apologize at the top of my lungs, _I will_." Santana continues on, frustrated at the internal language barrier. When Brittany doesn't react, she takes a deep breath and motions to fall to her knees but the blonde immediately stops her before she does so.

"No! What are you doing-" Brittany halts her movement from both sides of her arms.

Kurt and her bodyguards finally reach her and surround them at once, scaring the civilians around them. The mob of paparazzi from earlier are now running toward their spot, avoiding incoming cars as they cross the block and getting their cameras ready.

"Princess, we have to go!" Kurt exclaims in a cold tone.

Santana ignores him and peers at Brittany instead. As if waiting for an answer to an undisclosed question hanging in the air.

Brittany swallows a lump in her throat. Then shakes her head in the slowest way she can.

"I-I'm sorry but no. You've hurt me too much." She whispers just enough for Santana to hear. "What I want is for you to never come near or talk to me again. Please." She adds, glassy eyed. "I can't do this. You broke my heart, Santana." She repeats her words from earlier. The words echoing a hundred times at the back of Santana's mind.

With one last look, Brittany takes a step forward and leaves a dejected Santana behind. Soon enough, Brittany gets lost in the crowd of people and before the brunette's eyes.

Santana feels her knees giving in. Her heart combusting of despair. Breathless in the worst way possible. She cannot do anything but to watch Brittany walk away again for what feels like the last time. Was what she did such an awful thing that it warrants for Brittany to banish her from her life? To command her that she never wants to see Santana again?

Before she can think or do anything else, her bodyguards whisk her away from the streets. She finds herself being sandwiched between them and Kurt who's protecting her from the hounding bright lights shining upon them. The passersby move to the side when the paparazzi fight their way and each other to get a shot of the princess.

Before Santana knows it, she's ushered into her limo. The blinding flashes rebounding against the dark tint of the car window. With everything that had just happened in the past few minutes, this is the first time she's been truly alone. She takes this as a brief minute to breathe. To ponder what the paparazzi had seen between them or just the dancer. To reflect that she had lost Brittany. To accept the fact that there is no chance anymore. To respect the blonde's wishes, no questions asked.

Oh, how she abhors this life. This- this wretched way of living in a cage like a bird that wants nothing more but freedom.

Kurt enters the car and immediately tells Pablo to take off, the guards hurrying to their respective cars and following suit.

Santana breaks down and allows herself to mourn the agony of being her, of losing Brittany.

* * *

 _Rosario_ does not exist.

The thought crossed Brittany's mind over and over again on the way home. How could she not have seen it from the start? The clues were all there if one ought to look!

The intense secrecy in itself was sketchy to start with. The way 'Rosario' and 'Brad' acted around her and the others. The stories that didn't make sense before have now radiated in a whole new light.

 _It was all a lie. It was all a lie. It was all a lie._

Rosario _is_ Santana, Crown Princess of Spain.

Brittany repeats to herself enough times yet the acceptance of it all is difficult to swallow. The understanding that they are one and the same still discomforts her. A bit of getting used to the thought is needed, that's for sure.

What she knows for certain is that the _Rosario_ persona, as far as she's come to know the woman, is different from who _Santana_ is, from what she's observed in the few minutes they interacted or seen each other.

From the obvious difference of how they hold themselves in public. How they act. Speak. Stand. Even smile. _They_ are entirely different people.

She knows enough about 'Rosario' to warrant a definite acquaintance as one may aptly put it. She knows the brunette likes American pancakes and indie music. That she hates the 'abomination that is the gigantic New York pizza'.

Brittany scurries her mind, looking for any hint or clue as to a question she doesn't even have to start with. How much of Rosario _is_ Santana? How much of it was the truth?

Brittany arrives at the Bushwick apartment to find that her roommate isn't home. She trudges to the kitchen and grabs herself countless glasses of ice cold water. Anything to numb out the ache in her heart or the heating rage inside her. She's thankful to some extent that Mercedes isn't around. The last thing she needs are questions on top of even more questions. If there's anything she needs right now, they are answers!

Brittany takes a deep breath, finishing the rest of the water jug while absent-mindedly surveying the apartment.

Oh, how it was not long ago when she kissed Santana and led her to her room. How she had the most wonderful night of her life, the most pleasurable, to be frank. How amazing it felt like to share such a special moment with such a dreamboat of a woman.

 _It was all a lie. It was all a lie. It was all a lie._

Brittany shakes her head at the intrusive thought. She places the glass down on the table a bit forceful than she would have liked and takes a deep breath. She had slept with Santana. She had a blossoming romance that faltered as soon as it began. Throughout all this, Santana was lying to her face about who she is. And just by who the hell really is this _Santana_? At least she has to know something.

Brittany heads for her room like a tornado set to destroy everything on its path. She pushes away the memories of Santana in her room. The brunette whimpering under her. The passionate kisses. That beautiful face looking down on her. The morning after that fateful night.

She reaches for her laptop from the bedside table and sits up on her bed, perching the back of her head and body with a pillow. It takes a moment for the dainty old computer to start up. When it does, she pulls up Google but hesitates to type the name.

She blinks, hands hovering above the keyboard. This is it, she thinks. This is quite _literally_ the moment of truth.

Brittany takes a deep breath and with fast strokes, types the following words 'Princess Santana'. As soon as she clicks on the 'enter' button, hundreds of search items greet her almost instantly. The main thing that stands out is the appearance of several images of Santana placed on the right part of the screen along with small details. To finish it off, a text under the picture reads in bold words of 'Santana, Princess of Asturias'.

By now, the truth has finally sink in for Brittany. There is no mistaking that the woman in this picture is the Rosario she _knew_. But this Rosario does not exist. There is only Santana. Santana, the Crown Princess of Spain.

Brittany lets out a sigh, feeling a pinch in her heart. She swallows the lump in her throat and scrolls down to see that there are several interesting links about the princess. Half of them from tabloids. She scrolls up again and clicks on the first link shown. A Wikipedia page devoted solely to the brunette.

A picture of Santana smiling and wearing a tiara is shown on the right side corner of the screen again. Brittany casually touches the trackpad and notices that the page allocated to the brunette is quite a long one.

She fixes her gaze on the details.

 _Santana, Princess of Asturias (born 14 February, 1990) is the Crown Princess and heiress apparent to the throne of Spain. She is the eldest child of King Ricardo VI and Queen Maribel. If she ascends to the throne as expected, she will be Spain's eighth queen regnant and the first since 1868. Her brother, Infante Diego, follows her in the line of succession._

Brittany gulps. She scrolls down to the 'Early Life' section and continues reading.

 _Santana was born on 14 February 1990 at 1:25 am in the Ruber International Hospital in Madrid. Born as a Princess of Spain, she was designated Crown Princess. Her place as first in the line of succession formally went into effect on 26 February 1990 with the parliamentary change to the Act of Succession that introduced absolute primogeniture._

Brittany's eyebrows pinch together. She clicks on the link for ' _absolute primogeniture'_ and reads through the paragraph relating to Santana.

She discovers in the brief passage that the Parliament of Spain, under directive orders from the King himself, passed a constitutional reform. Said reform meant that the throne would be inherited by the monarch's eldest child without regard to gender.

Brittany looks up, thinking. If she's not mistaken, the country changed their laws to make Santana their future Queen. That if it weren't for the change in law, Prince Diego would have been the Crown Prince instead. Now everything that 'Rosario' had said before in their farmhouse are making sense now.

She clicks a button bringing her back to the Google search page sprawling several links about the Princess. She scrolls down and stares at a headline from a famous magazine company. She clicks on it.

Once the page loads, the headline reads, _'Princess Santana, out and about in Ibiza! Future Queen or Eternal Wild Child?'_

A large photo of Santana clutching a drink in what appears to be a grand party in a yacht follows. She also notices _Brad_ standing close to the princess.

Scrolling down, several more photos of Santana are shown. The article doesn't mince their words about her. Almost anything negative that can be said against someone deemed to be a 'wild child' or an 'out-of-control' royal are stated in the article. As it seems, Santana is one of the most famous royals in the world. A high-profile heir to a throne. Someone who everyone has such huge expectations of.

She goes back to the search page again. She sorts through some of the pages and reads the contents. 'Princess Santana out and about with Prince Harry in Barcelona. A Royal Coupling?', one headline reads. 'Princess of Spain seen partying in Helsinki with presumed boyfriend son of Shipping Magnate.'. 'Princess Santana caught in party brawl scandal in London!'. 'Princess Santana to enter Rehab in Switzerland?'. 'Princess Santana bonds with Kate Middleton in double date with Princes William and Harry at monthly Polo match'. 'Princess Santana's stunning look for the Royal Belgian family Gala with Prince Diego', one of the rare positive headlines reads.

With each headline comes a few more issues like a hydra sprawling two more heads whenever you kill one. It never stops. Brittany stares one last time at a picture of the princess smiling at the camera, dressed elegantly in a cream gown with a slash draped across her torso, a small tiara on her head. Everyone's attention fixated on the woman. And why wouldn't they? Santana can vie for the world's most beautiful woman.

Brittany shuts the laptop and places it on her bedside table. She lets her body fall restless on the bed. Relieving her mind of any thoughts that involves a certain brunette. But no matter what she does, what she thinks, it cannot be done. Her heart aches of the betrayal, of the pain of having lost something in the blink of an eye. She was almost there, she thinks. A chance of that happiness with someone she truly cares about. That bliss of belonging to someone she loves. To being true to who she is. Everything had been going right for her for the first time in her life. And in what must be a snap of a finger, Brittany was transported back to the reality that there is no such thing for someone like her.

Brittany grabs a pillow and places it firmly against her face. Then she lets out a scream. The loudest she can muster. She holds the pillow tighter to muffle her shouting and screams some more. Maybe in this little outlet, she can let out a bit of that hatred inside her.

Then it hits her. Santana's signature perfume of floral and vanilla aroma is still in the air. The remnants of their night together remain on her sheets. She can still smell that vanilla scent on her pillow. Brittany breathes through her mouth. She gets up from the bed and tugs on her sheets. She removes the pillowcases and puts away the comforter, anything in sight that could remind her of Santana.

The sliding front door makes a sound just in time for Brittany to finish changing everything.

"Britt? I'm home!" Mercedes calls out from outside her bedroom. "Did you just come in?"

Brittany ignores her, hell-bent on completing her task. She dumps the used covers, comforter, and pillowcases on her laundry hamper, kicking them down to the bottom of it several times out of anger.

"I brought home meat lover's pizza and a ridiculously overpriced but still the cheapest champagne I could find. I figured it calls for a celebration coz I'm sure you did great on your audition. The girls are coming over too with wine and tacos in a little while." Mercedes continues babbling in the background.

Brittany doesn't answer. For a few seconds, she stares on what looks like a foreign bedroom to her. But instead of a fresh start, memories of Santana come flooding her again. Recollection of how they toured the small confines of her bedroom, how Santana writhed under her, Brittany's hips buckling upon reaching the plethora of pleasure, Santana's whole body quivering in satisfaction. Brittany summoned everything in herself not to tell Santana how she _truly_ felt about her.

And then, it was all gone.

Brittany shakes her head in disbelief as the tears start pooling at the back of her eyes again. To distract herself, she comes out of her bedroom and into the living room where Mercedes stands beside the kitchen island, holding a large frying pan in self-defense.

"Jesus Christ! You weren't answering so I thought you were a burglar! I was ready to slam this on your face, Britt. You could have died." Mercedes breathes a sigh of relief, placing the frying pan down while doing a sign of the cross.

Brittany doesn't respond, doing everything she can not to break apart.

"Britt?" Mercedes' eyebrows furrow, approaching her friend. "What's wrong? Did something happen at your audition?"

Brittany shakes her head slowly, embracing herself and biting her lip, the tears starting to form in her eyes now.

By the time Mercedes has reached her spot, Brittany's tears come free falling down her cheeks. Mercedes, helpless as she is, pulls the blonde for a tight hug. And when she does, Brittany crumbles into pieces in her friend's arms.

"Oh, Britt. I'm here. I'm here." Mercedes whispers over and over in her ears as she cries her heart out.

* * *

 **Working as fast as I can on the next chap. I would love it if you drop a review and let me know what you think :)**

 **A secret will finally come to light for everyone to know. Uh-oh ;)**


	13. Chapter 13

**It's lighter from here on out :)**

* * *

The frenzy arrived like a hurricane for Santana.

It started with a tabloid magazine clipping of her at the Met.

When the paparazzi obtained pictures of her running after a mystery woman in the streets of New York, the rumor mill was rife with multiple theories. Was the princess involved in a brawl? Was there a security faux pas? Sources say she was running after some man in the streets. Whatever it was, it made the paparazzi alert about every single thing that involved Santana for the next few days that followed.

Then came the published edition of the famous magazine. A few NYU Tisch students caught wind of seeing 'Rosario' on it and realized that there must have been a mix-up. Surely 'Rosario' can't be a Princess. Surely one of their own cannot be assuming an undercover identity.

As all good things come to an end, the paparazzi immediately caught on the social media discussions about 'Rosario' and Santana.

The paparazzi, desperate for any kind of scoop, discovered that the Princess was secretly attending NYU Tisch under a different name. They sought as many people as possible at school. Regardless if they had any personal connection to Santana, they published everything and anything they can get their hands on. Everyone knew Santana's secret as Rosario Cruz now. It was huge news around the world.

The media started patiently waiting in packs outside the school gates, huge cameras in hand. It had gotten so bad that Kurt had to employ Santana's strict security and transportation detail once again. The school president had to increase security inside school too for any moles and paparazzi in disguise loitering about. There was no more 'Rosario Cruz'. There was only Princess Santana of Spain. It's as if Santana never left Madrid. Yet again.

But then, it got worse. Wandering in the confines of her little world that had yet to come out was her secret. That she is gay. Even that didn't remain one for long.

They had gotten to Marley, apparently. A mole lounging in the background of one of the parties had heard about a 'girl' that some student saw kissed Santana once or twice before. When he had finished talking to an innocent Marley, she had told him just enough to make him go off like a cannon on the newfound knowledge and spread it across every written media there is, disseminate lies and speculations. Thankfully, there was no mention of Brittany whatsoever.

Soon enough, it was Princess Santana of Spain, the lesbian Princess.

And the frenzy had truly arrived like a hurricane for Santana.

She was outed, hounded, and bombarded day and night by news of her being gay, of scandals that she had no idea to start with. The Spanish monarchy was getting more anxious at every turn of the news. Unsure of how to deal with the scandal of having the very first _outed_ gay royal in the history of any monarchy. The first _outed_ gay royal heir to the throne. The first _outed_ soon to be Queen of Spain.

At one point, they contemplated to have Santana abdicate the throne to escape the scandal but even that had more liabilities and consequences than just dealing with the problem. But out of all the good things to come out of it, the people of Spain cheered for their future Queen in an unexpected turn of events. Most of Europe celebrated the fact that _finally_ there is a gay royal. Moreover, a future Queen of one of the longest running monarchies in the world. With this, the Spanish monarchy had shut up and finally caved in to celebrating the Princess instead of shutting down rumors at every turn.

Throughout it all, Santana remained in New York. Calm and collected. She remained ingrained in her college life in Manhattan, attempting to go about normally with her daily comings and goings. Most of the students could not care less that there is a goddamn princess in school.

Only one thing affected her: Brittany's absence in her life.

Brittany had completely locked her out. Going above and beyond to not crossing paths with her in school, ignoring her completely, and switching partners in dance class. Their friends have been quite civil enough but the cracks can't ever be mended. Santana respected her wishes to be left alone, of course. But still, it hurts her to know that she can never come close to the love of her life again. That she can't tell her the truth and how she truly feels for her.

Santana needs one chance. That's all it takes. All she needs is one and she will do everything she can to make it right.

* * *

Brittany nervously loiters in the hallway waiting for her turn. She has long given up on reviewing her notes for Spanish Art. Instead, she wallows in the helplessness that being barely ready for an exam grants her.

If only, she thinks. _If only Santana were here._ Only she could make Brittany calm and happy and contented and without worries.

It had been a week since she found out the truth about Santana. A week of crying her heart out. A week of shutting herself down from the world. A week of misery with the truth out in the open. From what she's heard nonstop in the past few days in school, on the news, and basically everywhere else, the truth _really_ is quite out there for the whole world to know.

It frightened her at first. Deep down she had anticipated in fear that their last encounter with apparently, the paparazzi not trailing far behind them, would put them in a bad position. Or a spot in the tabloids. But there wasn't any mention nor picture at all. Merely speculations that were unfounded.

What Brittany's thankful for most of all, even with the abundance of articles about Santana, is that the discretion of the nature of their _then_ budding relationship bore fruit. It brought her relief far more than she can ever convey. No one knew except for her family and friends. Best of luck with bribing them for a scoop if worse comes to worst. It's one thing to be recognized for your talent, another to be scrutinized at every turn for your personal life.

However, the pain of betrayal still persists. Brittany is reminded of it every time, especially in the few times she's seen Santana in campus. The yearning look in the brunette's eyes. The remorse her face exhibits. Perhaps Santana does have her reasons, and Brittany's sure she does, but the fact remains that it does not hurt any less. It hurts Brittany even more.

Being honest to herself, maybe the pain has subsided in the days that followed that encounter. Perhaps one of these days she would come to talk to Santana again. To discuss the truth and come to an understanding. She wants to hear the whole of it from Santana herself, of course. After all, she misses Santana so much. Even with all that's happened, nothing can outweigh how she longs to be in the brunette's arms again. A terrible thought given the circumstances but what's a girl head over heels for someone to do?

Brittany snaps out of it. She takes a deep breath just as the last student exits the exam room with a smile on his face.

"You're up, Pierce." He mumbles, thumb pointing towards the room.

Brittany swallows the lump in her throat and enters the room. This is it. Do or die. This could make or break her chances of passing her final term with flying colors. The only goddamn hurdle to graduate from university. But no fear. Santana taught her well. She has to do Santana proud in the best way she can or all that tutoring – or non-tutoring – sessions would go to waste.

Brittany stands in the middle of the room facing the board. A panel of Art professors gather before her. A projector screen sprawled across the board behind them.

She reins in her nervousness and puts on a brave smile. One that she's sure came out like that of constipation.

"So, Miss Pierce," Brittany's Spanish Art professor, a woman in her late 40s with eyebrows that could rival the youngsters', trails off with a bright smile. "you and Spanish Art have had a love-hate relationship this term. Are you ready?"

Brittany nods frantically, enough to give her whiplash.

"Alright." Her professor utters then points to the projector screen behind them. "A random Spanish Art piece will be shown on the screen. All you have to do is tell us who made the piece, a bit about the artist, and your brief analysis of the art. After that, you'll just have to answer a few follow-up questions and you're good to go. Got it?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

Within seconds, a familiar painting of a young princess surrounded by an entourage of maids of honor, bodyguards, dwarves, and a dog lights up the screen. The King and Queen shown as a reflection in the background. It's _Las Meninas_ by Diego Velasquez. It's the very piece in which Santana taught her about on that day she extended an invitation to Georgia. It's also the portrait in which Santana showed the cracks of her resentment towards being a Royal.

Brittany blinks a few times.

Not only is she incredibly familiar with this piece but it's also the portrait in which Santana discussed it thoroughly out of spite for reasons unknown to her back then. Brittany remembers that moment as if it was yesterday. She remembers Santana's perfume's floral scent invading her nostrils, the overwhelming sight of Santana's natural beauty gracing her, and the brunette's intelligence that is without a doubt the sexiest part of who she is. She can vividly recall Santana's words about the painting. How can she not? Santana was a great tutor.

"Miss Pierce? You can start now." Her professor offers, relaxing against her seat.

Brittany smiles. A surge of confidence washes upon her as she recites facts about the piece as confidently as she can.

* * *

Brittany lets out the biggest sigh of relief she can muster as she exits the room. If someone had told her months ago that she would pass her Spanish Art final exam with flying colors, she would have laughed in their face, committed murder, and buried that goddamn body in Central Park. But lo and behold, she passed her exam! How she did, she doesn't know and frankly, doesn't care anymore. All she remembers is spouting out Santana's words about the piece and chiming in as much as she can remember when she studied the portrait before. And what do you know, Brittany succeeded.

She gestures for the next student to enter the room. She grins to herself, elated that the only hurdle left to graduate has been conquered. It won't be for another two months of attending required classes and additional performances for the troupe but hell, she's as good a graduate as anyone can be!

It has been a nice end to her week so far. A good one since the lackluster days since she found out the truth. Maybe all she needs is Santana back in her life again and she'll be in bliss once more. Perhaps she should take the first step. Perhaps not. Maybe when the circumstances are laid down in front of her, she would. It could be today, tomorrow, or probably next week. But she sure hopes that there was a way she could do it now.

Brittany turns to leave only to see a familiar face waiting outside the classroom across the hall. It's Kurt. He's idly checking his phone when he looks up to meet her gaze. She won't denying missing the secretary. Even with her romantic entanglement with Santana, she's developed an attachment to him and his dramatic ways as well.

Kurt gives out a shy smile and a wave. Something that Brittany genuinely returns much to his shock. She crosses the hall and approaches him.

"Hey." Brittany greets. Kurt falters a bit but returns the greeting. "Do you have class or are you waiting on someone?"

"O-Oh. My last class was over an hour ago. I'm waiting for the Princess." He pauses, gesturing to the classroom. "So, how have you been, Brittany?"

"I-I've been well. How about you two? Must be a bit different now, huh?"

"Oh, it's a madhouse." He chortles. A few seconds of silence come between them. The ambience becomes solemn.

Kurt speaks up again, remorse in his voice. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way, Brittany. I know Santana had apologized to you already but you've never heard it from me." He pauses. "I'm sorry for deceiving you."

Brittany purses her lips, eyes darting downward for a second or two. She meets Kurt's stare again. This time offering a genuine smile and a respite on whatever altercation they've had in the past.

"I know." She says. "I'm sure there's a pretty good reason for hiding who you guys are. Safety purposes, for one. But, I guess I just-" She sighs. "You can't blame me for feeling this way about her, _Kurt._ "

Kurt nods emphatically. "I understand where you're coming from."

"Let's call it a ceasefire for now between us, shall we? I don't like to bear grudges against people. Might give me a heart attack." They both chuckle.

"I would like that, Britt. I do miss talking to you and the girls. I'm sure Santana does too. She doesn't like talking about it but like the great seer that I am when it comes to her, I know she'd be overjoyed to know about this."

Suddenly, the classroom door opens. An influx of students come rushing out of the room. One by one, Brittany searches for the face. And then, Santana comes out.

Santana looks up at the same time Brittany realizes she's been holding her breath for the last few seconds. No bodyguards scattering around the princess for once. They haven't seen each other since their Dual Repertory class almost a week ago. One in which Brittany made an executive decision to herself to change partners if she were to survive that class in one piece. And during then, Santana had respected her wishes of being left alone, of staying away from her.

Santana looks stunning, as usual. She's still the same woman but not _entirely_ the same person. The way she walks. The way she intimidates just in her manner of stance. The way she commands an entire hallway of people taking curious stares at her without doing anything. She's more poised. More conscious of her own movements. More aloof than ever.

Santana's different. She's no longer Rosario, the supermodel-like student who revels in the carefree environment as if it's her first time out in the wilderness. No. Even from afar, Brittany can see that this is Santana, the princess who exudes pure confidence and finesse. Her _Santana_. Or at least she used to be.

Santana averts her gaze for a bit, looking downward. A visible distress in her demeanor. Brad or, as she has now come to accept, _Kurt_ looks up upon noticing the sudden change in the princess's behavior. He meets Brittany's gaze. Unlike Santana, he flashes the blonde the biggest of smiles, excited to witness the scene about to unfold before him.

"U-Uh… Hi, Brittany." Santana nervously utters.

"Hey." Brittany almost whispers, then purses her lips. They lock eyes for a while, reveling in each other's presence after having not been this close for some time now.

Kurt, standing between the two women, clears his throat. He grins when it takes them off their trance.

"S-So," Brittany clears her throat as well, motioning to the assistant. "I was just having a chitchat here with Kurt about uhmm-" Her eyebrows crease. "What were we talking about?"

Kurt stifles a chuckle. "You were saying something about a final exam."

"Oh, yeah!" Brittany exclaims to herself. She places all her attention on Santana. "I just had my Spanish Art finals."

Santana's eyebrows raise. "Oh. How was it?"

"It turned out quite nice, actually. I told Kurt that-" She cuts herself off upon realizing that Kurt is gone, looking around for him.

"Don't bother. He does that quite often. Usually happens at the mere mention of healthy eating or early morning exercise. Or if he wants to pretend to be cupid."

"Or maybe he's just a ninja."

"I've long given up trying to understand him. I've learned to accept Kurt as he is, abnormalities and all." Santana shakes her head, chuckling. Brittany mirrors the brunette's smile. Their eyes lock again for a brief second, only broken by Santana glancing down at the ground.

"So," Santana says. "how did you do on your finals? You never told me."

"Oh!" Brittany responds, the brunette's beautiful grin distracting her. "I-I did well. Do you remember that princess painting you taught me?"

" _Las Meninas_?"

"Yes, that one." Brittany says. "It was given to me at random. I remembered everything you told me about it before and some of the things you told me to review when it comes to the artist. So, there. I passed."

Santana nods approvingly. "That's wonderful. I'm glad my ancestors were of great help. All your hard work finally paid off. And by hard work, I mean, all that time you spent staring at them in all angles looking like a lost child."

"Make fun of it all you want. I'm just glad it's all over. Also, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have passed. You were a great tutor."

"I am." Santana grins devilishly.

"Conceited ass." Brittany rolls her eyes.

Santana raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brittany mirrors the brunette's gesture, grinning from ear to ear. "was I not supposed to talk to you that way, Princess? Let me rephrase that: You're a conceited ass… Your Royal Highness." She adds with a curtsy.

Santana can't help but laugh. If it had been any other person, she would have already slapped them across the head with her shoe. But this was Brittany. She could only feel unprecedented fondness and happiness that Brittany's presence can bring out in her.

"Alright. I deserve that one."

"Oh, you deserve a whole lot more than that." Brittany replies, smiling but with a hint of reproach.

"I know. I owe you too much." Santana utters, nodding to herself. "I also know it's also hard for you to come out and talk to me but you did. So, thank you for that."

"It's hard to resist you." Brittany sighs. "I missed you."

"Ah, so this didn't come from the goodness of your heart then?" Santana smiles. "I missed you more, Britt. You have no idea."

Brittany bites her lip, reining in the stubborn butterflies in her stomach. "So, how have you been?"

"I have been well. Almost mobbed and died a couple of times but still alive. You?"

"Same without the dying part." Brittany jests. "So, they didn't make you go home after what happened? I saw it on the internet and E! news on TV."

"No. They thought it's better to make all the controversy go away before I head back."

"So, you're staying in New York? For a while?"

"Yes. Kurt and I. We both think it's for the best. Don't you think so?"

"I do." Brittany grins widely, then snaps out of it. "I do." She whispers to herself. She glances at her watch and meets Santana's curious stare.

"Somewhere you have to be?"

"Yeah. Tina asked me to cover her afternoon shift tonight at Ken's. She's doing some wedding planning with Artie."

"Ah, I see." Santana says with disappointment in her tone. "Well then, I won't keep you any longer. It was really nice talking to you, Britt."

Brittany offers a smile at the mention of her nickname. She prepares to walk away but stops herself.

"Hey, I was wondering," Brittany trails off. "do you still want to talk?"

"T-Talk?"

"Yeah, talk. I don't know about you but I think you owe me a pretty long explanation about a lot of stuff." Brittany says with a mocking smile.

"W-What?" Santana answers, still awestruck at the prospect of finally being granted a chance to explain herself.

Brittany pouts. "Didn't you mean it at that time?"

"She did, she did." Kurt's voice echoes, slightly startling both of them. He assumes his previous position of standing between the two women. "She's just not all there right now because your beauty blinds her perception. But she is. In fact, Santana looks forward to having that talk. Aren't you, Princess?" He grins in a sly manner.

"I am. Thank you very much, Kurt." The brunette answers in a monotone.

"Alright then. When are you free, Santana? I can call you that, right?" Brittany utters in an all too innocent way.

Before Santana can answer, Kurt swoops in. "You can call her whatever you like, Britt. And she is free anytime, all day, all night for you." He grins from ear to ear much to the blonde's entertainment.

Santana throws him a sharp look then back at Brittany. "I'm free tonight and yes, although I might regret saying this in front of Kurt, you can call me whatever pleases you."

Kurt laughs to himself.

"Forgive my parrot. I believe he's high from flirting all morning with whom he calls my 'macho delicious' driver."

Brittany chortles. "I'm actually free tonight too. Right after my shift at Ken's."

"Then how about I come by and pick you up there? No security or anything, I swear."

"You can do that?" Brittany asks, then points to a nonchalant Kurt. "I mean, he'll let you do that?"

"Yes. And no matter what I do, he's always lurking around in the shadows like the creep that he is anyway."

"Alrighty then. Will it be pushing too much if we grab dinner and drinks too while we're at it? I feel like I'll be needing a lot of alcohol. There's a small place that serves good burgers near Ken's. It's cozy and private there. But your place is just fine if we need to be discreet and all that." Brittany talks a little too fast in a ramble.

Santana blinks, unable to catch most of the words the blonde said. "U-Uh… I- What?"

Brittany can only smile, amused at realizing they're both nervous around each other. Kurt cuts in before Santana speaks.

"Yes, she would very much like that, Britt. She's looking forward to it." He utters, grinning.

"Y-Yes. Forgive me. I'm just a bit u-uh, on edge." Santana waves a hand in disregard. She brushes it off and stands a bit straighter, feigning full confidence. "A lot of alcohol sounds immaculate. I leave the choice for dining up to you."

"Great! I'll see you later then?" Brittany says, a glint in her eye.

"Can't wait for it, Britt."

Brittany smiles one last time then walks away, everything suddenly lighter, happier.

* * *

Santana can't contain the happiness she feels right now. She's overflowing with confidence. She's beyond elated!

There is something about Brittany. One thing she can't pinpoint about the blonde that makes her believe she can do anything. She's over the moon. Or was it over the rainbow that Americans say? Whichever it is, no words can limit or contain or describe or discern how she's feeling right now.

Finally! Oh, finally! She can tell Brittany everything. She can tell Brittany the whole truth. She can tell Brittany how she really feels about her. And Santana cannot wait. All the problems and scandals in the world are behind her for now. All that matters is Brittany.

Santana has been counting the ticking of the clock for the past few hours. Watching it religiously, waiting for the moment when it's time to go over to Ken's. She's showered, dressed up casual enough not to make it seem that she's trying hard, and she smells good.

It's only half an hour more. This time of the night is when it gets the most hectic at the bar. Brittany's probably swamped to the bone serving those ill-mannered commoners. Santana glances at the Swarovski wall clock again and sighs. Time would only go by slower if she stays this way. Kurt is busy working on work emails in the dining area too so there's no one to bother.

There's that new flower shop next door. As far as she can remember Brittany loves tulips. 'Because they look cute and funny', as Brittany says with that drop dead gorgeous smile that makes her heart palpitate just a little bit.

Santana gets up from the couch. Deciding upon herself that it's definitely not cheesy to give her date flowers. Extra romantic points can't hurt her case. She sticks her head out to the threshold of the dining room, taking a peek at Kurt with his eyebrows creased at having read something.

"I'm going to that new shop to buy flowers. Would you like some?" She teases. Kurt only looks up with the same confused look.

"Hydrangeas, if they have some."

Santana nods and exits the apartment. They haven't stayed that long in New York but even with all its flaws - rude people, noisy environment, and frequent fear for your life –she has grown to love it. She sees herself staying here for a long while. Away from the demanding life in Spain. Away from the mob of media watching her every move in Madrid. Perhaps the best thing about New York is that she can blend in as a commoner. With the paparazzi and media outlets slowly calming down on her sudden 'coming out', she's in the best place possible with Brittany. She can conjure a hazy image of the future with Brittany on her mind.

She generously tips the florist for the beautiful flowers and heads back to the apartment. What a beautiful night. The crisp chilly air, faint sounds of expletives and car horns in the background, and laughter from the passing crowd. She glances at her watch and looks up just in time to see her limousine approaching from the distance. Only a little while now.

"The elderly lady was quite nice." She greets upon entering their penthouse. "She gave me instructions about taking care of the hydrangeas so they'd last." She adds, setting up the said flowers on the empty vase by the front door and admiring it.

When no one answers, she goes to the dining area only to see an abandoned laptop and cup of coffee.

"Kurt?" She calls out from the living area. "Kurt, are you still alive?"

Suddenly, Kurt comes in through the front door clutching his cellphone in a frenzied state.

"Where did you come from? Did you follow me?" Santana chuckles. "Look at these tulips, aren't they pretty?" She adds, showing them off.

He catches up on his breathing. "P-Princess, it's the Queen." He says in a ramble, handing her the cellphone.

Santana raises an eyebrow. She puts down the tulips on the couch and braces herself for whatever sermon her Mother is sure to give her yet again. That's the only reason she calls anyway.

"Mother?" She says. Kurt goes upstairs in a haste as soon as she grabs the device from him.

" _Santana._ " Her Mother replies, her tone somber.

" _Si, Mama_. What is it?"

A pause ensues. Then the Queen speaks again. " _It's your Papa, Mija. He's had a heart attack._ "

Santana gasps for air. The whole room becomes mute. Her heart stops beating for a split second. "What?" She almost whispers. "Is he alright?"

 _"He's in the ICU. His doctor says that it's hard to say if he will reach a stable condition any time soon."_

Santana's throat goes dry. She struggles to maintain her balance, her legs wobbly. She settles on the couch shaking to her very core.

"Is Diego there?"

" _He is. He's talking to your father's doctor."_

Pablo the driver enters the apartment, subtly nodding at Santana just as Kurt descends from the staircase carrying their luggage, her purse, and his sling bag.

 _"Santana?_ " Her Mother's voice echoes in her ears again. " _You need to come home at once, Mija. We don't know if-"_ Her Mother's voice cracks. " _We need you here, Santana._ _Everyone needs you._ "

What follows becomes a blur for Santana. Kurt ushers her to prepare after the call and said a lot of things she cannot remember. Thoughts of her father wired up to a machine keeping him alive invade her thoughts. Images of her brother, as much as he's strong and mature for his age, crying to their Mother arise. And the Queen, trying to be as much of as rock as she can, shows a little bit of an emotion under that hard exterior.

The next thing she knows she's in her limousine on the way to the airport. Another thought comes to mind. _Everyone needs you,_ her Mother said. That could only mean one thing aside from being the daughter to the King. Seeing that she is the heir, she could very well be taking over the reins of the monarchy once she's back home. In no time and as sudden as it were, she might become Queen in an instant. She's not even ready, _dios mio!_

Her phone lights up, indicating a new message.

 _Brittany Susan Pierce_

 _Hey, San. Just cleaning up. Be out in 5. I'll wait for you outside Ken's so you don't have to come in. See ya xoxo._

Santana sighs. She relaxes against her seat and lets her head fall facing the window. So close. So, so close. Perhaps it's in the stars that she and Brittany are not meant to be. That must be the reason for all the distractions that hinder them from meeting in the middle. Perhaps it can't ever be because they were never meant for each other.

The car turns to a corner, a street leading to a jam packed Ken's on a Friday night. True enough, when the limo inches closer to the bar, Santana can see a figure standing in front of the doors. She sees it clearly. Brittany, stunning as ever in the simplest of sweater and pants, having an animated conversation with Mercedes and Sugar. The three of them ignoring the rush of people trying to get into Ken's, some of them lingering long enough to take a glance at Brittany as they enter.

Santana takes a patient look. Memorizing every little thing about Brittany as if she hasn't already. She takes in everything about this night. About everything that lead to this moment. Santana takes one last look to remember her by because as far as she knows, she'll never get to see her again.


	14. Chapter 14

**I was on a writing spree, so ta-da! Thanks for all the reviews!**

* * *

Santana abruptly wakes at the sudden ray of sunshine thrust upon her face. She covers her face then squints her eyes at the culprit responsible for waking her this early.

"Wakey wakey, Little Miss Sunshine!" Kurt's merry voice echoes a little too loud in her bedroom. Upon closer inspection, he's donning new complete workout attire of short shorts, elbow and kneepads, brightly colored sneakers, skin-tight compression shirt, and to bring it all home, a purple headband.

"Five more minutes. It's my day off." Santana whispers, agitated. She buries herself in the covers only for Kurt to take it all off on her, making her shudder.

"No, no, it's not! You say that every day and it turns into an hour!" He exclaims. "Now, come on. You have a very hectic schedule for today. Breakfast is in the oven and will be ready in an hour downstairs."

Santana mutters Spanish expletives under her breath. She glances at her bedside alarm and reaches for the orange juice brought to her. She sits up in her bed while rubbing her eyes. "It's five thirty in the goddamn morning, Hummel. We got in late last night. Let my brain catch up to all this madness first." She says, motioning to Kurt's outfit.

"Fine. But we can't waste time. So, let me walk you through your schedule today again." He says and resorts to do some stretching instead. "At seven thirty, you have a breakfast meeting with PM Martinez and his wife to talk about a charity fundraiser for the Chicos orphanage this month. At nine, you will be taking part as the guest of honor along with Diego for the Veterans' parade downtown. At noon, you and Diego will meet the Queen back here in the Palace to welcome the Prime Minister of Scotland and her husband and have lunch with them.

"Around two, you will conduct a statement accepting the Queen of England's invitation to visit the UK next month. Remember to emphasize that you will be representing the King. After that, you have a break from the public but you'll need to try on the gown you'll be using for the Europa Press next week and get your speech ready. And finally, at seven, you and Diego will do the honors of opening the art fair downtown. The binders with the picture of the sample pieces you requested were delivered last night. Make sure to buy a few." He ends just as he does his second round of warming up.

"Oh, joy." Santana remarks with a sigh. She finishes the remains of her drink. "Will you leave my five to six vacant? Diego and I promised Papa that we'll take him on a stroll today for his daily exercise. I want to show him the binders too so I can make a purchase for him." She adds with a soft tone.

"Of course, Princess."

"Good." Santana cracks her first smile of the day. "Anything else I need to know?"

Kurt pauses to think. "I saw on the Internet that you are now the third most popular Royal family member in the world after William and Kate. Tourism is up by eleven percent too because of you." He grins. "I'm sure if you requested, a monument will be erected in your place now. You'd be known as 'Santana, the Gay'. What do you think?"

"I'm unable to think just yet. Give me a few more minutes and I'll come up with something that will make you lose your will to live." Santana smirks. She gets up from bed, stretches a bit, trudges to the bathroom then to her walk-in closet to change into her workout gear.

"By the way, the Queen wants to talk to you before we leave for the art fair later." Kurt cries out from outside the closet.

Santana peeks out. "Did she tell you why?"

"Oh, yes, we gabbed about it as I braided Her Majesty's hair in between bites of chocolate chip cookies and warm milk while watching Downton Abbey-"

"Yes, yes, I get the point, Kurt." She rolls her eyes. "It sounds serious. What could it be about? The last time we had a 'talk' she banished me to Paris for a semester for partying too much." She adds then resumes putting on clothes.

"Maybe it's good news this time. And I stress this as a bit hard to swallow-"

"Kurt, my good friend, you shouldn't use such a phrase when we both know you have never had difficulty gulping down a lot of things." She cuts with a mocking tone.

Kurt ignores her retort. "That you've behaved quite well since we came back. It's really unbelievable, if you think about how evil you are."

" _Were_." She corrects him just as she comes out of the closet.

"Miracles don't exist but sure." He shrugs. She goes to the mirror and fixes herself up. He gives her a brief once over and treads slowly with his next words.

"So," He trails off, walking over to her. "it's been three weeks since we left New York."

Santana glances at him through the reflection.

"You've been busy. Taking over half of the King's duties and assuming all your royal responsibilities. You even got a part-time job at _Museo del Prado_! Can you believe it? Because I really don't sometimes. You? 'Responsible' and 'working' in the same sentence? I'd laugh in your face if you told me that two months ago."

"Thank you so much for the support." Santana chuckles. "Now what's the point of this, as you Americans call it, _segue_ into what I'm sure is an apt early morning conversation topic."

"Well… Brittany."

She casts him a deadpan look. "I told you. I don't want to talk about it, Kurt."

"I know for a fact that Brittany's not doing anything at the moment. Tonight's her second audition too. Maybe wish her some luck?" He says. She ignores him. He continues, "We had time to stop then so you could talk to her but you didn't."

"I was too preoccupied with my father. I might not have been able to go if we stopped to talk to her."

"Yes, but are you just going to leave it at that? A short phone call?" He utters, throwing her a look.

Santana sighs. She places her hair in a ponytail and faces Kurt with a steely gaze in her eye. "What do you want me to do, Kurt? Her life is in the US. Mine is here. I can't just up and leave to follow her nor can I ask her to do the same for me."

"Then how about inviting her here? For a vacation, maybe."

"What's the use? She's not going to stay anyway."

"But don't you want to see her?"

Santana bites her lip. "Of course I do, Kurt. I miss her so, _so_ much. But there's nothing I can do and I have to live with that." She breathes deeply. "Besides, it's not as if she's crazy to see me. I tricked her into believing I was a commoner and when it came to making it up to her, I left without saying goodbye in person. One more and I will hit 'Tic Tac Toe' with her."

"It's Bingo, Princess." Kurt smiles. "But is that it? The end of an era?"

"As far as I'm concerned, it already ended. There's no coming back from that."

"Okay. But there's that swan painting you bought for Britt at the Met. And those books you purchased before we left. I think I saw you writing a little note too. What do we do about all that?"

"Up to you. Just keep it away from me."

Kurt purses his lip, nodding. "If you say so, Your Highness"

Santana flashes him a small smile. "Now, would you care to tell me why you're so excited to exercise for the first time in your life and the abomination that is your glow-in-the-dark attire?"

"Oh. Pablo the driver is subbing for your fitness trainer today. Thought I'd join in and stand out." He grins from ear to ear.

"I knew it was too good to be true. You are, what do Americans call it colloquially speaking? Ah! You are such a slut, Kurt. A highly paid slut." Santana makes a face on their way out her bedroom.

* * *

Brittany remains in heavy thinking for the whole trip back to Bushwick.

Her second audition for the American Jazz and Ballet Dance Company ended almost an hour ago. Still, she can't help but be anxious about her results. Her evaluators, who were as emotionless as a robot, only had a few words to say: " _That was something, Miss Pierce._ "

And that was it.

There were no smiles. No compliments. Nothing to gauge if she did well at all. No. There was only silence and nonchalance in that room. Looking back now on her routine, the most emotional one she's ever executed, Brittany might have flushed her chances down the drain.

Maybe she shouldn't have let her emotions about Santana take over her dancing. Maybe she should have just played it safe like the others. Oh well. At least she tried something new. What sucks is she wouldn't know the results until after a month or two.

She sighs audibly as she reaches their apartment complex. It has been three weeks. The thought of Santana constantly invades her mind. She distinctly remembers waiting with Sugar and Mercedes outside the bar, both of them excited to interact with Kurt and Santana again. Then came that phone call.

 _"Britt, I won't be able to make it."_ Santana said.

It felt as if her heart was dropped from a high-rise building. It was one disappointment after another and she was ready to give Santana a piece of her mind for stringing her along. But being the dumdum that she is, she asked, " _Why?_ "

There was a long pause from Santana's line, Brittany remembers. The sound of powerful gushes of air and indistinct chattering in the background. Then the Princess spoke.

 _"I'm heading back home to Spain. It's my father. I'm so sorry. I can't."_

Then the line was cut.

Brittany's sure she held her breath far longer than she should have. She recalls being furious but confused. Upset but anxious. On the verge of tears but rendered indifferent. Ooh! Her emotions were all over the place! She couldn't understand what Santana meant about her father, why she sounded gloomy. Just when things were starting to go right again then _bam!_ She couldn't understand why they can't seem to catch a break. She couldn't understand why Santana couldn't say goodbye face to face. But then again, what did she expect from involving herself with a real life Princess anyway? If there's anything that's thrown her back to reality, that their romance is not a fairy tale, then that was it.

The explanation came a few days later.

Brittany came back working part-time for Ken, to distract herself mostly, when she saw the news on one of the TV screens during closing time.

The King of Spain had a massive heart attack and was in a coma for a week. Soon enough, talks of the King's abdication were rife. Some even thought Princess Santana was going to ascend as Queen. But she didn't. Not just yet. The brunette's face was plastered in every news outlet there is. Suddenly and as the King rested, Santana became the face of the Spanish monarchy.

Brittany understood _why_. Brittany realized that there was no freaking way in hell that a commoner like her would have a chance of a happy ever after with not just _a_ Princess, but _the_ future Queen of Spain. It was time to move on, she decided for herself then. She had to try.

Brittany enters the apartment to the sight of her friends sprawled on the couch with pizza and alcohol lying about and Netflix on the screen.

"Hey, guys." She greets, a tad confused with the sudden disarray of the living area this early in the night.

"Hey, Britt! This was all supposed to be a surprise but we got hungry and thirsty." Mercedes responds, grinning.

"Don't worry about it. The train was late." She waves a hand in disregard. "So, what's all this for?"

"It's a mini-celebration after your second audition! Thought we'd make you drunk before you become filthy rich and famous." Tina chimes in.

Brittany chuckles. She goes to her room to change into comfortable clothes then settles in with them. "I hate to say this but don't hold your breath."

"Why? What happened?" Sugar asks. The other two lean in to follow the conversation.

"I'm not sure. I don't think I impressed them."

"What? That's crazy! You're the best dancer in your class!" Mercedes counters.

Brittany sighs. "I just hope I did enough to get in. I want this so bad."

"Baby girl," Tina cuts in, handing her a glass of champagne. "we are here to take your mind off of your worries tonight, alright? We are going to talk about boys, well, girls for you, and we will have you wasted in no time!"

Brittany laughs and grabs the glass from Tina. She drinks it all in one go with the girls cheering for her.

In no time, they become intoxicated, loud, and rowdy. Conversations frequently jump from one to another. Some of them about school gossip. Some about their recent romantic, or for Sugar, sexual episodes. Nevertheless, Brittany never ceases to feel better in the comfort of her friends.

"So, Britt," Sugar leads, playfully raising both eyebrows and grinning widely. "you and Santana, huh?"

Tina and Mercedes groan. Brittany chuckles and says, "Sugar, I'm afraid we're a bit too late to the party for that."

"Ooh! Britt, come give us the goods!" Mercedes drunkenly slurs, eliciting a loud cheer from the other two.

"You had a fling with a real-life princess and we've never talked about her. We never got the dirt!" Tina cuts in, smirking.

"There's no dirt, you guys." Brittany retorts, taking a huge sip from her glass. "It's not even a big deal anymore."

Her friends howl in disbelief. "Yeah, right!" Sugar cries out.

"B, you've been moping around these past few weeks. We saw you staring at Santana's picture in your laptop the other day in your room." Mercedes chimes in.

Brittany gasps. "I-I did not!"

"Yes, you did!" The three women say in unison.

"You know what, we are going to talk about establishing boundaries, alright?" Brittany gives them a look. "A-And there's nothing to talk about. It's all over." She adds with a stern tone.

An awkward silence ensues. Brittany munches on the pizza while her friends share knowing looks with each other.

Sugar whispers in the softest of tones, "Britt, you, _like_ , banged a Princess."

The whole room erupts in fits of uncontrollable drunken laughter.

"Sugar! Oh my God!" Brittany exclaims all horrified but can't help but cackle with them. "You can't go saying things like that." She adds, reining in her laughter.

"Asperger's." Sugar shrugs, chuckling.

Brittany shakes her head, casting them an unamused glance. "It wasn't anything casual like you're putting on. It was-" She purses her lips. "It was quite romantic."

They nod along. Tina smirks, "So, it was that good, huh?"

Brittany tries to deflect but no words come out of her mouth. Instead, she throws her hands up and covers her face to hide her blushing. The other girls further taunt her.

"Speaking of royalty sex scandals," Mercedes trails off. "guess who called me last night?"

"Channing Tatum?" Sugar teases.

"Nah, girl. It was Kurt. He just said hello and we got to catch up a little bit. Apparently, Santana's gotten quite busy which we all know, with the news and all. Oh! I told him you had your second audition today too."

Brittany nods along. She feigns disinterest and places all her attention on the food instead.

"Why don't you come visit Santana?" Mercedes utters. The other girls subtly agree. Brittany squints her eyes at her friend.

"You mean, go to Madrid?"

"Why not? You're not doing anything right now. You and her are 'good friends'. Why not go and have a little vacation in good 'ol Spain?"

"W-What? That's crazy! What am I going to do there?"

"To go get the girl?" Tina grins.

Brittany chuckles bitterly. "If this were the movies, I would. But the 'girl' we're talking about here is the future Queen of Spain. I'm nothing but a poor commoner. There is no 'getting the girl'."

"Do you _love_ her though?" Sugar asks. Brittany stops sipping her drink midway. Tina and Mercedes look up to see their friend's reaction.

Brittany's eyebrows furrow. She clears her throat and brushes the question away. "T-The point is I don't stand a chance. B-Besides, how am I going to make contact with her? Ring the doorbell on their Palace gates and ask for the Princess?" She mockingly laughs to herself.

"We could try to contact Kurt. Fat chance but we could always try." Mercedes remarks. "Let's tell him you're coming to visit and see Santana."

Brittany thinks. "N-No. I can't, okay? Her father just had a heart attack and she's busy with work. The news says so. I don't belong there. Let's just leave it that way. It's time to move on."

Her friends decide not to push anymore. They open up a new conversation about school and Tina's nearing engagement party. All the while, Brittany remains aloof. She pretends to listen to their conversations while engaging in her own private fantasy about following Santana to Spain.

A knock on their steel front door stops the on-going conversation. They cautiously glance at each other.

"Did somebody order more pizza?" Tina asks. Everyone shakes their head.

Another knock on the door, louder and firmer, startles them. This time, they all stand up and assume previously talked about positions sporting their makeshift weapons apt for living in Bushwick whenever someone knocks on the door in the dead of the night. As randomly elected, or as a sacrifice if worse comes to worst, Sugar approaches the door and takes a peek through the hole.

For some unknown reason to the other girls, Sugar relaxes and slides the door open to unveil a brown-haired woman and two men in suits.

"Hello." The woman utters with a heavy Spanish accent. "I am Lope Verano. We come from the _Palacio de la Zarzuela_ in Madrid, under Her Royal Highness's office."

"The what now?" Sugar raises an eyebrow.

Lope barely cracks a smile. "We are looking for Miss Brittany Susan Pierce. Is she around?"

Brittany hesitantly walks to the door. Tina and Mercedes stand with Sugar at the sides.

"H-Hello. I'm Brittany Pierce."

Lope regards her then extends a hand. "Miss Pierce, I am Lope Verano, the Communications Assistant to Mr. Kurt Hummel. He sent me here to personally deliver a package from Her Royal Highness Princess Santana. Where shall we put it?" She utters, looking around the apartment with some hint of reproach.

Brittany blinks. "A-A package delivery? What?"

Not waiting for an answer, Lope gestures for the men to enter the apartment. They step back to grab a yard long rectangular package wrapped in cloth and bubble wrap then place them on the couch for lack of a space.

Brittany's eyebrows raise, mouth open as she looks around in confusion. She gazes back at Lope who cuts in before she's able to say something.

"These are also for you, Miss Pierce." She says, handing her a parcel packed in brown paper with a knot around it.

"I- Uh- Did you come all the way from Spain just to deliver all these?" Brittany motions to the gifts.

"Yes. Mr. Hummel told me that it was a direct order from Her Royal Highness."

"O-Oh my- But why?"

"I believe that's above my pay grade, ma'am. What I can tell you is that Mr. Hummel had strict orders that they should be delivered with utmost care." Lope forces a smile. She reaches from her purse and hands Brittany Kurt's calling card. "He's expecting your call, Miss Pierce."

"Oh, I have to ask. Is there any way I can contact Santana directly? Or maybe you can do it for me?"

Lope raises an eyebrow at the casual demand and the use of the Princess's name, as if Brittany just asked to be handed a million dollars. "I'm sorry. We are not allowed to communicate directly with the Princess unless absolutely necessary. Until then, any and all communications go through Mr. Hummel. But," She pauses, handing Brittany a miniature red envelope with a small royal seal on it. "Sir Kurt wanted you to have that. He mentioned that it is the Princess's personal contact details. He had _very, very_ precise instructions that it is for your eyes only."

Brittany's breath hitches. The other girls gasp.

Lope smiles. "If there's nothing else we can help you with, Miss Pierce, then we'll be on our way."

"T-Thank you." Brittany retorts, staring in disbelief at the fancy envelope. It's only now that she realizes that they had definitely taken Kurt and Santana's commoner status in New York for granted.

Lope bids goodbye and leaves with the men. The whole apartment is subdued in silence with the girls hovering over the package by the couch. All of them suddenly sober at the sudden turn of events.

"So…" Tina trails off. "Do we open it?"

Brittany nods frantically. They carefully unwrap the first one while she stays in the sidelines to watch the scene unfold before her.

It's an unfamiliar portrait of lovers perched on a bench in a park, completely smitten with each other, ignoring the musings of the swans in the background. By the corner, the signature of an artist named 'Kellerman'.

Brittany squints her eyes. She can practically hear the gears on her mind turning as she analyzes the portrait.

Why does it look familiar? She's seen it somewhere before, she's sure of it. Why did Santana send this particular piece? Two lovers deep in love, ignoring the outside world. It's almost as if Santana's telling her that she could not care less about the world. That Brittany is the only one who matters to her.

"We got you cheap champagne for your second audition and this girl got you a painting worth more than _your_ lives combined." Sugar remarks, chuckling.

"What's that?" Tina points to the parcel in Brittany's hand. She snaps out of her trance and unwraps it.

The parcel contains two books and a brown envelope. The book on top is a travel guide for Spain. The other is a small Spanish-English translation dictionary. The envelope holds a first class ticket from New York to Madrid. Upon closer inspection, a small note is tucked inside. It says:

 _How good is your Spanish, Brubru?_

Brittany can't help but crack a smile at the resurrected nickname. She looks up at the painting then glances back down on the note and ticket.

"I think she wants me to come to Spain." Brittany whispers.

The girls immediately flock to her spot, taking a peek at the things in her hand.

"Dude, what are you still doing standing here? The flight on the ticket is in two hours! Start packing your bags!" Mercedes jests.

"Y-You guys think I should go?"

"Hell yeah!" Tina exclaims. "Come on, I'll help you pack!"

"Girl, I will so happily jump on that plane, come to the dark side, and do some _lesbianing_ with Santana if you won't go." Sugar remarks.

"But I don't know if I'm ready. I-I need to plan things first. I can't just go there. I don't even have an idea where to go and how to-"

"For the love of God, Brittany Susan Pierce! Just do one impulsive thing in your life and go get the girl!" Mercedes cries out. "Now stop with this nonsense or so help me I will slap you so hard that you will read my fortune from the handprint on your face!"

Brittany blinks rapidly. "Yeah. I'll go."

"Good!" Mercedes holds up both hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so excited that everything is coming out three octaves higher."

Tina hugs Mercedes while laughing. She turns back her attention to Brittany. "Let's get packing then!"

"Wait!" Brittany protests. "There's only one problem: I don't have money. I only have a hundred and thirty bucks to my name right now."

"But you have a ticket and you can call Kurt or Santana from there." Tina retorts.

"I know, I know. It's for Plan B." Brittany bites her lip. "This ticket is one way to Madrid. I need to have extra money on me just in case things turn sour."

They all nod in understanding. Then Mercedes shouts, "Screw that! I have two hundred here."

"I have two hundred too, Britt." Tina adds.

Brittany's heart melts at the gesture. Before she can say sappy things, Sugar cuts in.

"Oh my God, stop this madness!" She waves a black card then practically shoves it in Brittany's face with the sweetest of smiles. "Here you go, darling. Go get you some nice things." She adds, winking.

The action leaves the rest of them thunderstruck. She doesn't object and merely takes it as Tina and Mercedes repeatedly whispers in her ear.

"Thank you… so much." She croaks out.

"Don't mention it. I got a few more here anyway." Sugar waves a hand in disregard. "I totally ship this romance, so defile away."

Brittany saves herself from the incoming unfiltered bevy of words. She retreats to her room and packs a holiday bag as fast as she can with the help of her friends. Soon enough, she's on her way to the airport with her heart thumping to the beat of the drum.

* * *

"One hundred euros says that I did something wrong during one of the engagements." Santana says with a huge smirk as they walk along the halls of the Palace to the Queen's study.

"What makes you think you did something wrong, Princess?"

"Just a hunch." Santana shrugs. "So, what do you say? A hundred euros?"

"Sure. How about we throw in dinner at _Santceloni_ too? Loser buys."

"Deal." Santana grins. They walk along the next few seconds in silence. It isn't until they turn to a corner leading directly to their destination that Santana speaks again.

"Oh, I forgot to ask. Is he riding alone with me tomorrow at the parade?"

"Yes. Both of you will be leading the parade. The King and Queen will ride with the carriage."

They knock on the Queen's study and a soft voice tells them to enter. Santana is greeted by the sight of her mother arranging some flower arrangement.

"Kurt, will you kindly have them send us some tea?"

Kurt bows his head and exits the room. Santana nervously remains in her spot.

"How have you been, Mija?" Maribel leads, attention still on the flowers.

"Well. At least I think I am."

"Come sit with me." The Queen says and motions to the sofa much to Santana's nervousness. Her Mother gives her a once over and smiles.

"W-What is it, Mother?"

The Queen shakes her head. "Nothing. Your father and I have frequent conversations about you."

"Oh." Santana says a bit taken aback.

"There's something different about you since you came back from New York. It's as if you're a changed person." Her Mother says. "You have gotten yourself a job in the Museum. You're attending all your engagements on time and religiously. You are taking more control and shown yourself as a leader in the past few weeks. You have even established quite the connection with the masses. Your father and I are quite impressed." She adds, grinning.

Santana chuckles. "For the record, my being on time to all my appointments and everything else should be attributed to Kurt."

"Yes. Kurt really is something. Hiring him as your secretary was a great decision." The Queen laughs then turns serious. "I know you have somewhere to be so I shall keep this short. There are two points we need to discuss. First is the parade for the opening of the parliamentary session. We have decided that you will be the one to open the session."

"What?" Santana looks on dumbfounded.

"Your father raised the idea and I agree with him. A few more weeks and he's strong enough to resume some of his duties. He can do it tomorrow if he wishes but he elected that you take over. As a way to slowly transfer some of his duties to you. _Officially_."

She raises an eyebrow, having a hunch where this conversation is going.

"Your duty of opening parliament tomorrow serves as one of the first steps to your becoming Queen. Seeing your surge of popularity, we expect that the media would speculate about the sudden substitution. Further, starting tomorrow, we will start turning over most of your father's duties to you. And in return, you will turn some of your own to Diego. He will be first in line when you become Queen, after all."

"W-Wait. What are you saying, Mother?" Santana breathes through her mouth as deep as she can.

"Mija," Her Mother trails off, placing a hand on her knee. "your father, as stubborn as he is, needs to devote himself to recovering full-time. This leads me to our second point. We're planning to announce your father's abdication from the throne next month then have the official ceremony the month after. It means that we have two complete months to prepare for your ascension to Queen.

"A-Are you saying that-"

"Yes." The Queen says in a gentle manner. "In two months, you will no longer be Santana, Princess of Asturias. In two months, you will officially become Santana, Queen of Spain."

* * *

 **We're moving to Spain, people! Keep the motivation coming ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A fast update, as you all wished. Thank you for the motivation, you guys:)**

 **Fair warning: Ends with a frustrating yet highly satisfying cliffhanger :D**

* * *

" _Bienvenido a Madrid!_ " A random airport attendant greets Brittany as she walks along the halls of the Madrid-Barajas Airport.

She takes a deep breath. She has arrived in Spain. She's in the same country, same city as Santana again. She's elated and frightened and excited and anxious and holy crap! She's just all over the place, emotionally speaking. This must be what a rush feels like after doing, probably, the first major impulsive thing in her life.

Brittany looks around the airport like the lost child that she is. She takes a moment to relax and decides to grab lunch at the closest restaurant from where she's standing. While waiting to be seated, she fishes the Spanish-English translation dictionary and Spain travel guide from her carry-on purse. She barely slept the whole flight here. No. She was too excited for that. Instead, she studied her translation dictionary and tried as much to memorize the basic phrases that would keep her alive.

She flips through her travel guide. She never really had any idea that Spain is so huge. And by golly, so beautiful based on the pictures alone! She focuses on the task at hand, to find Kurt or Santana. But before anything else, she needs to let her friends know that she's arrived safe and sound. She fishes for her phone from her bag and dials internationally for Mercedes's number. It picks up on the third ring.

 _"Britt, please tell us you haven't been kidnapped!_ " Mercedes exclaims, worry apparent in her voice.

"On the contrary, I'm having lunch at the airport. Just want you guys to know that I am alive and well. I'm so glad you all think so too." Brittany chortles at her own sarcastic remark.

" _Well, you know, you hear a lot of tourist abductions abroad._ "

"Not really helping my peace of mind, Cedes."

Mercedes laughs. _"So, what's up? Were you able to get in touch with Kurt already?"_

"Nope. Tried it earlier but his phone's busy. I'll try Santana's later."

 _"What? What if you won't be able to contact them at all?"_

"I'm trying to figure that out right now. Maybe you can shine some wisdom upon me, my dear friend."

Brittany hears a brief commotion on the other line.

Mercedes speaks, _"Hey, Britt, I'm gonna put you on speaker, 'kay?"_

" _Hey Britt, we have a suggestion to solve your dilemma._ " Tina's voice comes through.

"Any ideas are welcome."

" _What about, now hear us out first, alright?_ " Sugar speaks up. _"What about you knock on Santana's door?"_

"Sugar, I don't think Santana has a front door. They have Palace gates. Heavily guarded gates. With lots of soldiers around the vicinity." She pauses, blinking. "I might die, you guys."

" _You won't, Britt. You'll get abducted first."_ Sugar comments nonchalantly. The other two protest in the background. Tina speaks again.

 _"How about you go to that Palace place and look for Kurt? Oh! You have his card. You could give that to customer service or if they're not too fancy, one of the guards. You can tell them you're looking for him._ "

Brittany nods to herself. "Not a bad idea. I could definitely do that as Plan B."

 _"And if all else fails, you could show them Santana's envelope with the seal. If that don't scare them enough to let you in, I don't know what will, honey."_ Mercedes chimes in.

 _"If they don't bulge, look for the pretty bitch from last night, Britt._ " Sugar says.

"Who now?"

" _That Lola Vivacious girl._ " Sugar follows up. Mercedes and Tina correct her with 'Lope Verano' at the same time in the background.

Brittany chuckles to herself. She's about to speak when a sound goes off in her phone. She pulls it away and glances at it to see that she's close to running out of battery.

"Uh… I'll have to call you back later, Cedes."

" _Did they call you?_ " Mercedes retorts with excitement.

"Nope." She pops the word. "I've got twenty percent remaining and I left my charger in my nightstand."

Her friends groan on the other line. Mercedes adds, " _Alright. Just keep us updated where you will be at all times and what your plan is. Buy a charger too._ "

"You got it. Thanks. Talk to you later." Brittany says then ends the call.

She bites her lip, thinking what to do next. She takes out Kurt's calling card and dials the number indicated but doesn't get through yet again. She tries for a third time but only gets a busy tone. She sighs and decides to try later, conserving the battery. For now, she has to concentrate in taking care of herself. She needs a contingency plan on how to contact Kurt.

When her lunch is served, she alternates between eating and reading the travel guide. Supposing where Kurt and Santana is staying. As far as she can remember, Santana mentioned that she has an apartment in the city but as her family requires her, she also resides in the palace. As Brittany looks through the book in her hand, she discovers that there are several palaces in just Madrid alone.

 _Royal Palace of Madrid. Royal Palace of El Prado. Royal Palace of Moncloa…_

Brittany's eyebrows furrow as she studies the page intended for the Royal Palace of Madrid. It's a tourist attraction, yes. But it's not residential at all. Then she zones in upon reading a familiar name. _Palacio de la Zarzuela_. Why does that sound so familiar- Oh! This was what that Lope Verano said back in Bushwick! She reads through the passage:

 _The Royal Palace of Madrid is the official residence of the Spanish Royal Family at the city of Madrid, but it is only used for state ceremonies. King Ricardo IV and the Royal Family do not reside in the palace choosing instead the more modest Palacio de la Zarzuela on the outskirts of Madrid._

This is the place! Brittany bites her lip. Her friends are right. If she ever ran out of options or if her phone goes dead, then that would be the only place to go. She could present Kurt's calling card to someone there or if that fails, try to find that Lope woman from last night. Or perhaps, if it's even all possible without her being apprehended by the Royal Guards, she could present them the sealed envelope with Santana's personal contact details.

She takes the particular envelope from her bag. She admires the royal seal then opens it. Inside is a lavender card, a tad bigger than a normal one. Unlike Kurt's calling card, Santana's has the same seal, as that of the envelope placed earlier, on the right upper corner.

Brittany grabs her phone. A tad nervous at the sight of seeing only twenty percent left on it. She dials the number and just like Kurt's, gets an operator saying that the line is busy.

Brittany chews the inside of her cheek and ponders what to do next. She glances at her wristwatch and sees that it's only a bit past two in the afternoon. Perhaps she should check in to a hotel first. But if she does then the chance of talking to Kurt dwindles by the day. She can't waste any time. The worst possible thing would be if they suddenly left Madrid. Or Spain altogether.

Brittany sighs. She settles the bill and sends a quick text to her friends, detailing what's she about to do and where she's going. She exits the airport and falls in line at the taxi lane with the other tourists.

When it's her turn, a middle-aged cheery taxi driver with a bright smile greets her upon entering the vehicle.

"Welcome to Madrid! Where to, _Se_ _ñora_?" He asks, grinning from ear to ear.

Brittany awkwardly smiles. " _Palacio de la Zarzuela_ , sir."

* * *

"I have something to tell you. It's a big secret." Santana warily tells Kurt. He pauses on fixing the gold sash draped across the brunette's black Royal Military guard uniform to take a good look at her.

They are in the common room leading to the grounds where the Royal Family will come from to start the parade. Several servants come and go in the room, running around in panic to provide whatever Santana and Diego need before the parade.

"Shall I hold on for dear life first?"

"Perhaps you should."

Kurt squints his eyes at her. "Does this have something to do with what you and Her Majesty talked about yesterday?"

Santana nods. She looks around the room and drags Kurt to a corner, away from the others who are busy taking care of Diego. She takes a deep breath then says, "Father is abdicating. I will become Queen in two months."

Kurt gasps. He stares back in disbelief then places a hand over his heart. "I think my ovaries just exploded."

"You don't have one."

"I know but, oh my God! In two mo-" He cries out only for Santana to cover his mouth. Other people in the room briefly glance at them.

"Restrain the ovarian explosion!" She gives him a hard look. Kurt nods frantically.

She removes her hand from his mouth then they resume their relaxed stance once again.

"Alright. I'm cool now." Kurt breathes deeply through his mouth. Then whispers, "Who else knows about this?"

"Just the family. _Mamá_ and _Papá_ want to keep it secret first. It won't be announced to the household until next week." She tells him the rest of the details the Queen told her.

"Wow. I mean, it's all so sudden."

"I know. There will be a lot of work waiting for us. More so for you."

"Me? Why me? I know we always talk about _me_ becoming Queen but I was just kidding! I take it all back! I volunteer _you_ as Queen!"

"Traitor." Santana rolls her eyes. "Well, I have to choose a Chief of Staff, don't I?"

Kurt stares at her. He blinks, interpreting the words as if they're in another language. "Oh." He says, the thought setting in. Santana smiles. Then Kurt's eyes widen as if they're popping out of its sockets. " _Oh!_ _Oh!"_ He follows with a gasp.

"Kurt, _dios mio_ , why do you always sound like a porn star? Did you have a past I never knew about? Because it would explain a lot."

Kurt waves a hand in disregard. Santana chuckles and continues, "It's a big step-up, I know. But you are my first and only choice for the position. I regret that I'll need to find a new secretary soon but you deserve the job and it's yours."

"I don't know what to say, Princess." Kurt grins appreciatively.

"Oh, you know. 'Thank you, Santana. You're the most wonderful person in the world. I adore you. I love you.'. That kind of thing." Santana cocks her head to the side, smirking.

"I will let that comment pass so we can savor this sweet moment." He grins and motions for a hug. "Thank you, Santana. I will not let you down."

"Wonderful. Now if Diego's ready, then we should go. We don't want to keep them waiting outside."

It must be the expression on Kurt's face. Or the fact that Santana knows him very well after having known him for five years. Or perhaps the simple way she knows Kurt is about to say something that would turn her world upside down.

"What is it?" Santana asks, throwing Kurt a cautious look.

"Since it's confession time, there's something I have to tell you."

"Will my ovaries explode as well?" She jests. Kurt remains serious. "Alright. You're making me nervous. Out with it."

He swallows the lump in his throat, takes a deep breath, and does a subtle sign of the cross. "Last night, I had my people send Brittany the painting and books you bought for her."

Santana doesn't react. In fact, there is nothing that could tell what she's thinking at all.

"And-"

"There's more?" Santana mumbles in a cold tone.

Kurt purses his lips then nods. "Along with the note you wrote, I also enclosed your calling card and a plane ticket to Madrid."

Santana's jaw clenches, forehead creases. "Why would you do that, Kurt? You had no right to do that."

"I-I know. I just-" He sighs. "You're my best friend. I don't want you to regret _not_ doing the things you wanted to do. Or should have done."

"It wasn't your choice to make!"

"I know and I'm sorry, alright? But I know you want to see her, I know you do, even for one last time." Kurt argues. "Besides, we don't know for sure if she ever got on the plane. I haven't followed up on that. But she hasn't called me nor you, so for all we know, we're arguing for nothing."

A surge of disappointment courses through Santana upon hearing the last statement. She lets go of the breath she didn't know she'd been holding for far too long. She's not mad at Kurt. Never. No matter how much he can be overbearing sometimes, he only means the best. At times, he knows what she wants better than she does.

It's true. She does want to see Brittany. In fact, she feels outpouring excitement at the prospect of seeing Brittany. If she were skeptical a while ago, now she's hoping that Brittany caught that plane to Madrid. She _wants_ Brittany to come to Madrid and see her. Even for just one day. Hell, if Brittany wanted to stay forever then so be it. Everyone else would just have to be happy that she's happy.

"Am I fired? Should I start packing my things? Am I demoted to a dust sweeper?" Kurt pouts, remorse apparent in his face.

"Tempting but no." Santana cracks a small smile. "I apologize for lashing out on you but you deserved that."

Kurt shrugs, agreeing.

"You need to find out if she got on the plane, Kurt. When was her flight exactly?"

"I'm not sure. Close to midnight or a bit past that, New York time."

Gauging the flight time from New York to Madrid, Brittany should have been here by now. She would have already called them. But she hasn't. Or didn't because maybe she never got on the plane.

"I don't think we should get our hopes up." She says, frowning.

"Oh, come on, Princess. Maybe she had a delay. We won't know for sure until after the parade." Kurt says soothingly. "Besides, even if she didn't get on the plane, Brittany would call. I'll have my assistant know if she used the ticket. We've been busy prepping for today that I've yet to check it. I'll call them right now." He fishes his phone and Santana's out of his coat pocket. "Damn reception. Always goes haywire whenever there's a parade. Everybody's using their phones."

Santana bites her lip and thinks. Her heart racing at the thought that perhaps Brittany had been trying to call them but can't get through. But no. That's too far-fetched. She's made too many mistakes. Too many dues to make up to Brittany for the blonde to just leave her life in New York behind.

A man in a suit enters the room and announces that the King and Queen are ready and on their way to the carriage. Santana and Diego depart for the grounds with their respective entourage trailing behind them.

" _Hola_ , _chico_." Santana greets her horse, Prince, with utmost enthusiasm that can usually only be seen with dog lovers who can't get enough of their pets. She strokes his face just as the horse makes a soft noise upon seeing its master.

Santana mounts her horse. Diego follows suit with his own. Kurt fixes her uniform on the sides just as the King and Queen climb the carriage. In the brief minute, everyone scurries to get the Royal Family picture perfect ready.

"What are you going to do if she does come?" Kurt asks, taking a good look at her outfit.

Santana throws him an inquisitive stare.

"Brittany will meet your family one way or another. The media's not going to spare her if they find out."

"And you tell me this now? After you sent her a bloody plane ticket?" Santana chuckles.

"Oh, I thought about that. Seeing as that everyone knows you're gay and single, which I may say the Internet is very happy about, you deserve a little present in return for soldiering on."

"I know, Hummel." She smiles. "The media won't find out because we're going to keep it private. And for the record, my family will love her."

"The way _you_ do?" Kurt retorts. Santana disregards the question, her cheeks turning bright red.

Diego comes plodding beside them. "What are you two talking about?"

Santana shrugs. "Brittany may or may not come to Madrid today. Kurt's fault."

"You're kidding." Diego's eyes widen. "How do you know if she's here?"

"We don't." Santana and Kurt say in unison.

The men in suits prepare to open the gates. The crowd's cheer outside starts getting louder in anticipation.

"Time to get this show on the road. Don't forget to smile and wave every now and then." Kurt gestures with an exaggerated forced smile. The siblings nod.

Santana turns to face Kurt. "Will you let me know as soon as you have news about her?"

"Of course, Your Highness. I'll be right behind you in the limo."

She sighs. "Got any more surprises before I go?"

"None that I know of." Kurt shakes his head then scurries to Santana's limo.

The crowd cheers as loud as they can now. The King and Queen glance at the siblings for a brief moment, a subtle motion to assume their positions. Santana and Diego settle in their spot beside each other, lining up behind the carriage.

The gates open signaling the start of the parade.

* * *

Brittany sighs for the fifth time since she got in the cab.

For one thing, her driver just cannot shut up. In between words of mixed Spanish and English and what Brittany's assuming to be German, he has gone on nothing but his pride for Spain. Even taking her on a verbal tour of Madrid as they pass the aforementioned landmarks on their way to the Palace.

For another, Brittany admires how proud he is. And she has to admit that listening to him go on detailed descriptions of the tourist attractions is comforting. She even took out her travel guide. It's one way to pass the time.

Then again, she's becoming agitated by the second they come closer to their destination. She's still unable to contact Kurt and Santana. Her battery dwindling by the minute and fears of tourist abduction arising by the second it does. She's vibrating off of her seat from too much anxiety. She doesn't even know what she's going to say once she's arrived there.

'Uh… Hello? I'm Brittany Pierce. Princess Santana asked me to follow her here and resume our romance.'.

Brittany chortles to herself. The driver barely notices her, still rattling about some place named _Museo Nacional del Prado_. When they turn to a corner, a gathering starts to accumulate in an intersection leading to the main road. A barricade is placed ahead, blocking half of the road.

Her driver shouts expletives under his breath as they come to a stop.

"What's happening, sir?"

"This always happens when there's a parade. It's traffic everywhere!"

Brittany curiously gazes up front. "Parade for what?"

"The Royal Family, _Se_ _ñora_." He says. "They always have a parade when parliament is open. I know because I follow news!"

Brittany's eyebrows raise in astonishment. "R-Royal Family? You mean, Princess Santana will be there?"

"Of course! Of course! We love Princess Santana. Her bravery to be gay in America is _maravilloso!_ We are so excited for her to become Queen!" He exclaims with a big grin.

Brittany can't believe it. She was having trouble coming up with an idea how to find Santana or Kurt and then the opportunity presents itself. This could be her only chance to get a hold of them. She has to act now.

The taxi begins to move again, inching closer to the blocked intersection. By the looks of it, the Royal Family has yet to pass but is nearing judging from the amount of security. Her driver has moved on from landmarks to talking about Princess Santana - _her_ Santana - and how the whole country is so proud to have the brunette represent them.

Brittany motions for him to stop, saying gibberish words to express herself but to no avail. The driver keeps on droning on, now in Spanish, about something she cannot understand.

Brittany fishes her translation dictionary from her bag. She rummages against time as the car moves towards the parade, searching for the right words.

" _P-Para el co-"_ She mumbles to herself, clueless how to pronounce the right words. " _Pare el_ couch _?_ " She mutters, squinting her eyes hard at the words in the dictionary. The driver continues to exclaim words that mean jack to her. They come side-to-side with the crowd welcoming the parade, their cheer getting louder. From afar, she can see a carriage coming towards them.

 _"C-Coshy?_ " She says aloud. The words mean nothing to the driver. _"Cosh- Cock-_ No, that is definitely not it. _Sock? Sho-_ Shit! For the love of God!" She cries out in frustration. She bangs on the glass divider between the driver and the backseat. The driver shuts up almost immediately and brings all his attention to her just as the car passes the crowd a few meters ahead.

 _"Para el_ freaking _coche_?!" Brittany exclaims with a mixed tone of exasperation and question in her voice, her expression of comedic disbelief.

The driver nods, mumbling repeated, " _Si, Si_ " as he pulls over to the side.

" _Machos_ gracias." Brittany says absent-mindedly, not really caring if she said it wrong. She gathers her things and in a hurry, hands him what could only be twenty euros much to the driver's delight when she alights the vehicle.

There's no mistaking that Brittany looks like a tourist. Bags strapped to her body, that lost wonder in her eyes as if she's in Oz, and clutching her translator book in hand. A crosshair could very well be painted on her face for the con men and scammers to target her. She moves along the crowd, evading children and various people taking photos as they congregate on the sidewalk.

In all this, she tries to contact Kurt again. Unlike the last time she tried, she's unable to get through at all. Her phone's reception disappearing altogether. She cusses under her breath. This cannot be happening. Why are all these people using their phones? All she needs is a minute to get through to Kurt. That's all she needs.

She walks along the pavement towards the loud crowd. In a brief second, the reception comes back with one bar! With phone in hand and all eyes on the gadget, she takes out Santana's card. She calls the number but still fails.

"Oof!" Brittany cries out when a fanny pack wearing man bumps her from her left, almost knocking her to the ground. Kurt and Santana's card come flying out of her hand, her phone almost hitting the floor if it weren't for her reflexes to catch it at the last minute.

She glances for a brief second at the man who's giving her a cold stare as he passes by with his family. And now it's her fault that she just happened to fall over?! Brittany grits her teeth and gets up in a haste. Then she remembers the cards! Her breath hitches at the thought. Not only are they important but also confidential. Oh my God! She could go to jail for losing Santana's card. She could go to prison in freaking Spain for that!

She crouches, trying to find the cards on the ground in panic. The dozens of people, moving all around her, aren't entirely helping either. She squints her eyes, zoning in on everything white and lavender that's close to her. She purposely slaps people's feet away much to their ire, not having a care in the world what they're saying at all. She cannot believe the measures she has to employ for this. This tale will definitely not reach her friends.

The crowd's clamor become deafening, the people fight to get in front of the sidelines. Their shouts range from ' _Diego!', 'Santana!', 'Princesa!',_ and a few more others.

As soon as they move, Brittany locates the cards. She smiles to herself, a little bit of disgust too, when she picks them up and stands. Her hard work is futile though when she sees that the text on them cannot be deciphered anymore. Dirt and some questionable filth have smeared the cards beyond comprehension.

Then Brittany looks up.

From her line of sight, the first thing she recognizes is a black horse. A black horse so pretty, a horse that is without a doubt more beautiful than her. Her eyes move to an adolescent boy wearing what looks like a fancy equestrian three-piece attire, riding a brown horse, waving and smiling to the people. Boyish innocent looks and black hair. It's Diego!

The world around Brittany becomes a blur. She's here! She's finally come face to face with them. Ahead of the line is an open carriage with two middle aged couple riding in them, assuming a serious but still cheery façade as people scream for them. She can only assume that they are the King and Queen. Behind the carriage is Diego and beside him, the black horse in which Brittany can't see the rider. Then a limousine following in their steps. Lots and lots of men in uniform surround them and a few ear pieces-wearing in black suits.

" _Santana!"_ The woman next to Brittany shrieks as loud as she can, ear-splitting enough to impair her hearing. The crowd moves, clearing the path for Brittany to catch the whole action.

There, in the middle of it all, Brittany sees _her_.

In all her stunning glory, she sees Santana riding the black horse. Wearing a black army uniform, she waves and smiles to the people calling out for her name. Santana is directly in front of her but by George, the brunette can't see her amidst the large crowd.

Brittany remains frozen in her spot for what must be eternity but in reality, a few seconds. Then it hits her as the parade continues to move ahead.

With her phone dead, she cannot contact Kurt and Santana. Without the calling cards that's been battered to pieces, she has no proof to show at the Palace that she's not some dumdum freak fanatic.

She is desperate. Oh no, no. Desperate is not the word. She's freaking hopeless! She's alone in a foreign country, in a language she cannot speak, in a state beyond rescue.

Even if all eyes are on her, and will be on her, she has to do this. It leaves her no options. It's now or never!

Brittany fights to move towards the front of the line. It's difficult but she tries hard to get away from the camouflage that is the mob of people. In a twist of fate, she comes face to face with the fanny pack wearing guy, the only hurdle to achieve her goal.

Brittany's not proud of it. In hindsight, it must probably be the meanest thing she's about do. But a girl's got to do what a girl's go to do. She 'accidentally' pushes the man out of the way, the latter bumping into someone beside him. In effect, the people push him out of the way until he's out of Brittany's sight. Devoured by the crowd.

And now, Brittany is where she wants to be.

She looks up once again. In her struggle to achieve maximum efficiency, she has missed Santana by a few feet. Her heart thumps loudly, hands shaking of nervousness. She has to find a way to get the Princess's attention!

"Santana!" Brittany shouts as loud as she can. "Santana!" She shouts again but nothing. " _Santanaaa!_ " She shrieks as if she's in a concert but to no avail. How can she be heard if everyone else is shouting the same thing?

 _Think, think, think!_

What could make her stand out? What could get Santana's attention in this kind of environment?

And then an idea comes to mind.

"Brittany!" Brittany shouts her own name at the top of her lungs. Surely, _surely_ , no one in their right mind is going to shout their own name at the goddamn Royal Family. Apart from her, of course. Now she knows her voice stands out.

"Brittany! Brittany! _Brittany_!" She yells like a banshee on repeat. The onlookers beside her stop shouting and instead, gives her a puzzled look as if she's an escaped mental patient. She could practically hear their thoughts of 'Who the hell is Brittany?', 'What the hell is wrong with this woman?', or 'This is not the place to look for a lost friend, dear stranger'. Brittany brushes them off and fixes her stare at the Princess.

Santana falters on waving, igniting Brittany's hope. The brunette appears to be confused for a second. She glances at Diego who peers at her with the same expression on his face. Santana mumbles something, pointing to her ear.

Brittany's breath hitches, eyes about to pop out of their sockets. Santana heard her calling out her own name. It has to be what caught her attention!

But alas, it doesn't work out. Diego shrugs, slightly shaking his head. Santana nods, still unsure. They assume their previous stances and continue as they were.

"Damn it!" Brittany exclaims out loud, stomping her feet heavily to the ground. Santana drifts away from Brittany more and more as the seconds pass by. It's not looking good for her either since she's ran out of ideas and have nothing to show anymore. She tries to catch up to Santana, squeezing herself towards the line to the side and bumping most of the people. She comes to a halt when a huge flock of locals flood her away and there's nothing else to do but stay in her new spot, a mere few yards from where she came from.

Out of desperation or a possible knack of instant genius, Brittany concocts a new plan. If her own name didn't work and neither did Santana's _real_ name, then maybe, just maybe, some other name will.

"Rosario!" Brittany screams much to the surprise of the locals around her. It could be the booming intensity of her voice or the almost bass like deepness it had from the strain of persistent yelling. For all she knows, her voice is as deep as Mufasa's from The Lion King.

"Rosario! Rosario!" Brittany howls as best as she can. She feels a tinge of pain in her throat.

She doesn't notice it at first. The locals surrounding her stare intensely at her, some even whisper to their neighbors, a few gasp upon hearing her shout the name. Whatever it is, Brittany doesn't care now. She's taking the risk; Spanish prison be damned!

"Rosario! Rosario!" She yelps, waving her arms.

"Ah, ' _Rosario'_. The name of Princess in America _._ You are American friend of Princess, _si_?" A local old woman beside Brittany asks with a big grin.

"U-Uh… _Si, si_." Brittany blinks. She pays it no mind and gazes back at the Princess. She's losing hope now. Santana is so far away from where she stands and with all the commotion, it would be divine intervention if she were to hear Brittany screaming.

"Rosario!" She shouts again and again. But nothing. The parade continues as it's intended.

Brittany sighs. For one last time, she cries out, "Rosar-"

To her surprise, the old woman from earlier mimics her shouting. Brittany gives her a strange look. The old woman just grins and continues to shout 'Rosario' toward Santana. Soon enough, the locals surrounding her join in. Everyone within a yard radius from Brittany scream 'Rosario' at the top of their lungs. And like the sheep a mob is, everyone else on her side does too.

Brittany, with mouth agape, stares back in astonishment at the crowd looking at her with the biggest smiles on their faces. It leaves her speechless, to say the least. The Children of the Corn meets weed-induced happy Minions, that's what they are.

Brittany looks up at where Santana is. With _literally_ the voice of the people supporting Brittany's mission, the screaming reaches the Royal Family's ears. The King and Queen at the carriage glance at their side with a quizzical look. Then the Prince.

Diego looks around him. He reins in his horse to a stop and searches for the origins of the screaming. He turns his torso and upon narrowing his eyes at Brittany's side, seems to recognize a familiar face from the crowd.

Brittany's heart skips a beat. She unintentionally holds on to the old woman's arm beside her out of surprise. Diego stares at her, as if to make sure that he's really seeing the blonde in the flesh in freaking Madrid. A flash of surprise and happiness takes over the Prince's expression when he finally gets confirmation that it really is Brittany.

Brittany glances back at Santana who notices that Diego isn't beside her. The brunette looks behind and sees her brother looking at something. She breaks protocol and reins in her horse to trudge back to where Diego stopped. Santana, with her back to Brittany, seems to say something brief to her brother. When she fails to gather the Prince's attention, she starts to make her way back to her position.

That is, until Prince Diego calls her back. And it is so when she hears the chanting of the crowd. The repeated cry for 'Rosario'.

Brittany watches the whole scene unfold before her. She watches how Santana's forehead crease at all the confusion. She blindly searches where it's coming from but seeing that everyone else is shouting the same thing, assumes that they are mocking her for some reason or another. From the corner of Brittany's eye, she can see the passenger seat window of the limo behind the Royal siblings roll down with Kurt looking out to see what's the commotion about.

Diego calls out for Santana again. This time, the brunette places all her attention on him. And when Santana does so, the Prince, not bothering to say anything else, merely points to where she is.

To where Brittany is.

It is almost in a slow motion fashion. She reins in her horse and plods back to his spot. Diego mouths a few words. He points to and emphasizes Brittany's direction all the more with the biggest grin on his face.

Santana slowly looks to her left. Without having to search for the blonde, the Princess's eyes land directly on Brittany. Only on Brittany.

Brittany's entire world stops spinning. She stops breathing the moment they lock eyes. As if they are in their own little bubble where time has stopped for them to savor the moment. There's not much of a surprise on the Princess's face. If she didn't know any better, it's as if Santana's yearning for her to be here.

When reality caught up with them, Brittany cannot help but smile at the brunette. The kind that she unknowingly reserves only for Santana.

And then, Santana smiles back.

* * *

 **YAYYYYY!** **I will make it up to everyone with the next chapter, I swear.**

 **Just keep it up with the motivation and it will be right with you in no time :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Happy Holidays, you crazies! :)**

* * *

Santana cannot believe her eyes.

Brittany Susan Pierce in the flesh. In Madrid. That alone could make her day and smile last for an entire week. But seeing Brittany in the parade, among the crowd and a fingertip away, this alone could make her entire life.

She has lost track for how long she's been holding the blonde's stare. How long she's been smiling to warrant the tension in her jaw. She's far too preoccupied that the girl of her dreams is right in front of her.

"What are you waiting for?" Diego's voice takes her away from her thoughts amidst the crowd's loud cheers. She glances at him with the grin still plastered on her face. Her brother motions toward Brittany with his head, winking in the process.

Santana chuckles. She doesn't waste any more time and tugs Prince the horse's rein, leading him to Brittany.

The crowd shouts in anticipation at the top of their lungs. The parade begins to stop altogether. The paparazzi make their respective positions for maximum coverage. Knowing her parents, Santana's sure that they are losing their minds over this. And just imagining it, she's pretty sure Kurt's shitting his pants in a mix of excitement and panic.

Throughout all this, Santana could not care less. She has obeyed everyone's wishes long enough. Put work and being a public figure above her happiness. Hid who she is to maintain a stellar image. Turned her back on Brittany for everything else.

And now, it's her time.

As Americans usually put it, screw it. It's about time she places her happiness above everyone else's. Brittany _is_ her happiness. Everyone will just have to accept it.

Santana takes a deep breath as she closes in on the blonde, never breaking eye contact. A heart attack is looming in the distance if she won't be able to keep her heart rate back to normal. She removes her hat just as she stops in front of Brittany.

The whole world fades away. The background becomes mute. All Santana could see is Brittany alone. She smiles even wider now. She takes a deep breath through her mouth. A satisfied one that takes all her stress and problems away with it. There's nothing she needs anymore with Brittany here with her.

"Hi." Santana finds herself saying as she looks down on Brittany with the biggest grin she could muster.

"Hey." The dancer retorts with the same expression, chuckling. A look of wonder on her face.

Santana bites her lip, trying to rein in her smile but to no avail.

"You're here." She utters. Brittany shrugs, shoulders rising. Letting herself be hypnotized that is the presence of the Princess.

Santana glances around her and realizes that everyone is staring at them. The parade has stopped completely. Paparazzi clicking away with their cameras. And if she's not mistaken, Kurt hyperventilating in the limo at the sight of her and Brittany.

There's a romantic factor in all this. But as much as Santana wants to relish this moment of reunion, she doesn't want to share it with the whole world.

Several security guards move towards their spot. Santana thinks fast and glances around her. She mutters something to the guards in Spanish which in turn makes them clear the way for Brittany, removing the barrier between them.

She moves closer to Brittany and holds out her hand for the blonde to take. The blonde freezes in surprise, staring at the brunette with wide eyes. The crowd erupts in rapturous cheers at the gesture.

Santana smiles, nodding once, letting her know that it is alright and she can trust her. Brittany takes a deep breath. She grins and without hesitation, leaves the crowd's side and crosses to take Santana's hand. The blonde carefully mounts the horse with Santana's help.

Everyone cheers at the top of their lungs. Santana glances behind her, as if to ask if Brittany's alright. The blonde just nods frantically much to her amusement. The Princess tugs on the reins and motions for the horse to move towards the back where the limo is. Kurt's head sticking out like a giraffe from the passenger seat window.

"You will be the death of me, young lady." He cries out with a stern stare at Santana. "And you, quite the entrance, huh?" He glances at Brittany. "I'm glad you're here, Britt."

"Good to see you too, Kurt." The dancer beams back.

Santana brushes it all off with a chuckle. She looks over her shoulder at Brittany. "You can give him your bags."

Brittany hands him her things through the window.

The brunette glances back at Kurt. "Take care of things for me, will you? I'll see you back at the Palace." Santana adds loud enough for him to hear against the deafening screams of the crowd. Diego suddenly comes up beside them, taking her off her thoughts.

" _Bienvenido a Madrid,_ Brittany." He says with a grin, addressing a startled Brittany.

"O-Oh. Hi, Diego." The blonde replies, waving awkwardly.

Diego chuckles. He looks at Santana and points to his wristwatch, motioning forward with his head.

Santana nods. She looks over her shoulder again. "Britt, hold on tight."

Brittany nods in a frenzy and does as she's told. The Princess shares a look with Diego and with a smirk, tells him, "Race you there."

The siblings move forward with their horses. The parade resumes moving along, following their lead.

Santana moves to the front of the line, slowing down when she reaches the carriage where the King and Queen lay sitting in shock. She meets their gaze, mostly her Mother's, and engages in an unprecedented tension stare off. For a brief second, the Queen's gaze moves from her to Brittany. And if Santana had even the slightest of an inkling, she could imagine how Brittany is shrinking under her mother's scrutinizing glimpse.

Santana fights the urge to roll her eyes in front of all these people. She breaks off her Mother's gaze, a twinkle of victory in her eyes, and takes off forward to catch up with Diego. Several uniformed men in horses hurry to catch up with both of them as they travel the remaining distance to their destination.

They reach _Palacio de las Cortes_. Santana pulls the reins to a stop upon reaching the steps of the building. She holds out her arm for Brittany to use as a support to disembark. Diego reaches their spot just as the brunette dismounts from her horse as well.

Santana faces Brittany, holds her on both sides of her shoulder. She sees the confusion drawn on the blonde's face. The intense fear. The panic inducing anxiety to scream.

"Still with me?" Santana smiles, lifting Brittany's chin to meet her eyes. "I just have to do something quick, alright? I need you to stay calm."

Brittany blinks owlishly, nodding.

She takes Brittany's hand and drags her towards the entrance in a haste. Diego trails behind them.

The doors open. A man announces their presence, taken aback by a blonde stranger's presence and the way they all seem to be in a hurry. The members of the parliament and a few more others seated inside look over their shoulder and take to their feet as soon as the sight of the Princess greets them.

"Her Royal Highness, the _Princess of Asturias_. His Royal Highness, _Infante_ Diego. And e-er… a guest." The man exclaims warily, his voice booming around the room.

Santana practically runs the aisle leading to the front, disregarding the looks everyone is giving them and the various whispering going on.

"Stay here." Santana mutters to Brittany, motioning for her to stand in front of the court. Brittany like a deer in headlights, gives out a constipated smile. She stands in dread, aware that eyes are on her. And like the dumdum she can be sometimes, waves and greets the people in all her awkwardness.

Santana climbs the stairs to the box where she is to make her announcement. She scans the sea of people. Prime Minister Martinez, the Secretary of state, the Deputies, and all the important politicians are in this room, watching her every move. She slams the gavel thrice, signaling the start of the procession. She bows her head as a sign of respect to the Prime Minister and Secretary of State then exclaims:

"I now proclaim this session of Parliament open."

The entire room resorts to an applause albeit with a bit of hesitance judging by the confusion in all their faces. Santana climbs down and with a wink at Brittany, drags her out the building as fast as they came in.

* * *

Brittany breathes for what probably feels like the first time since she and Santana found each other at the parade.

They enter through the gates leading to the beautiful Palace grounds. From her memory, this is _Palacio de la Zarzuela_ as shown on her travel guide.

Brittany could not have seen a better scenery in her life. The garden full of vibrant colors that gives life and positivity to its surroundings. The backdrop of the trees, the vast green meadows, the statues that are a sight in their own right. That's only from the entrance. She has a good idea that the true beauty of the Palace grounds is hiding behind the Palace structures.

When they reach a patio of some kind that leads to a courtyard, Brittany sees Kurt, hands behind his back, waiting for them to arrive and a few more others who she assumes are helpers or security. Santana reins in the horse upon reaching him, helping Brittany to get off by extending her arm as a handle.

"Hey, Britt." Kurt utters with a knowing smirk. "How's your little field trip? Made hearts palpitate like you did mine?" He adds, laughing.

Brittany tries to open her mouth, finding the effort to produce some words but nothing comes out. She's too taken aback by her beautiful surroundings to think of a response.

"Anyone perished?" Santana asks Kurt, raising her eyebrows in an amused way while petting the black horse.

Kurt breathes deeply, motioning to the side. "We need to talk."

Santana nods in a skeptical fashion. She turns to face Brittany who's staring dumb-founded at her.

"Oh, please, go ahead." She exclaims, motioning for them to go about their business.

A helper comes to Brittany's side and hands her a glass of water much to her surprise. She reluctantly takes it and proceeds to gulp the whole thing in record time. From the corner of her eye, she notices them engage in a small argument. In Spanish, as it seems. She diverts her attention to surveying her surroundings once again.

The patio in itself is five times bigger than their apartment in Bushwick. Probably more! The patio building is designed with a multitude of interconnected archways, with fancy granite ground tiles that take up in their halls. A garden lining up by the corners to give off a fresh ambience as one enters.

"Brittany? Did you hear me?" Santana calls out for her. She bolts up and looks back at the brunette who's walking towards her. "Deep breaths, alright?" Santana adds with a charming grin, holding her hands and inching closer to her side.

"Y-Yeah." Brittany nods frantically, taking the advice. "What were you saying?"

"I asked if it would be alright with you to meet my parents?"

Brittany blinks owlishly, her mouth goes dry. "C-Come again?"

"My family is waiting for me in the study. I would love for them to meet you." Santana gives out a small smile.

"Y-Your parents? I mean, _legit,_ the King and Queen of Spain, right?"

"Yes." A tinge of worry takes over Santana's expression. "But only if you want to. You don't have to do anything you do not wish to."

"You'll have to meet them eventually, Britt." Kurt chimes in from behind them.

She had expected in some way that going after Santana would entail to meet her parents. What she failed to digest was that the brunette's parents aren't the ordinary suburban couple one is used to meeting. The gravity of the whole situation has finally landed on her shoulders. Kurt is right. She will have to meet them. Better now than later.

Brittany looks to be someone who's about to faint. She holds up a finger as if to signal them to give her a moment. She bends halfway with hands on her knees, taking consecutive deep breaths. Santana, Kurt, and a few others in the vicinity look on at a loss for words. After a moment, Brittany stands straight again, stretching her limbs and putting on a confident persona.

"Alright. I'm cool. I'm good. I can do this. Just chill, you know." She mumbles to herself, shaking off her hands and bobbing her head side to side.

Santana smiles in amusement, sharing a look with Kurt. "I take it that's a 'yes'?"

"Y-Yeah." She croaks out. Kurt nods approvingly.

Santana grins widely. "Thank you. It means a lot to me." She takes Brittany's hand and kisses the back of it. "I will be with you the whole time, I promise."

Brittany swallows the lump in her throat and nods her head frantically. Santana intertwines their hand and guides her to the courtyard leading to the Palace halls. Kurt trails a foot behind them. Her heart beats louder with every step they take. Her legs becoming weak as they go. Bouts of nausea rising as they come nearer to their destination. She doesn't give in to it. She soldiers on and be the superstar that she is.

This is important to Santana and by extension and exaggeration, life and death for her. She has to make a grand impression on the King and Queen.

The Palace grounds are more beautiful once you get past the initial courtyard and patio entrance. Unlike those structures, the path leading to the Palace mansion is nothing short of breath taking.

The gray stone ground is a nice contrast to the ivory statues placed at various spots like a museum leading you to its main piece. The main Palace, as she can see it from afar, is a huge mansion right in the middle of the whole grounds. Three floors by her estimation. It's a modern house with a brick design, big windows, double doors as a front door and a small stairs leading to it. It's not a _Palace_ in theory but as her travel guide said, the Royal family chose to reside here because the Royal Palace of Madrid was too big for them and would rather be best utilized as a museum.

If Brittany's not mistaken, she's seen at least two fountains so far. One at the entrance by another gate which seems to be where the cars go in and another at a small courtyard leading to the Palace mansion's front door. Aside from this, she notices various stray stone paths leading towards the back of the mansion where as far as she can see, comprises a few more sights and structures among the place's thousands of acres of land.

They approach the Mansion, as Brittany calls it in her mind, closer and closer. Brittany's grip on Santana's hand gets tighter. Her limbs shaking out of fear and nervousness. Outside, several guards are situated by the double doors. When they see Santana and Kurt approaching, never minding Brittany with them, they open the doors.

As beautiful as the outside is, the Mansion itself is just as pretty. It's spacious. To Brittany's surprise, it's not that modern in design. Nor is it outdated or even lavishly decorated. In fact, it's all _very_ humble. One can tell that the décor and all the furniture are top-notch and expensive, yes. However, it's homey and all thought out with the hardwood floors and warm, inviting colors. It's not something you'd expect from someone of their stature, she supposes. It's what you'd call a home.

"They're in the study." Kurt says.

Santana nods and tugs on Brittany's hand, smiling at her. "Are you still alive?"

"Barely breathing. Powering through it." Brittany says, breathless.

They stop in front of a huge set of oak double doors. Santana and Kurt look at one another, then they cast their glance at Brittany who's about to hyperventilate.

"This is it, Britt. Ready?" Santana offers a soft smile, cupping Brittany's face in her hands.

Brittany nods albeit still shaking. "J-Just one question."

"Yes?"

"How should I act around your parents? I mean, do I bow like the others? Do I shake their hands? Do I do a cartwheel and a side-split?"

Santana places a kiss on Brittany's forehead, smiling into it. "You don't have to do anything. Just be yourself, Britt. They will adore you just as I do."

Kurt knocks on the door then opens it, giving them the way.

It's like a scene from a movie. The King, wearing an army attire the same as Santana, is seated on a comfortable sofa. The Queen hovers near the King, as if she's been cut from doing a speech. Diego is seated on the lounge seat adjacent to the King, pouring himself a cup of tea.

All their attention falls on her. On Brittany alone.

Brittany sucks in all the air around her. The nerves in her body go haywire, bound for malfunction. She swallows the gulp in her throat and fights the extreme urge to cough when it goes down the wrong pipe. She does all she can not to throw up in their faces.

They enter the study. Or to put it simply, the big-ass fancy library. Santana holds her head high. She cozies closer to the blonde and tightens on her grip, never letting go of Brittany's hand. Kurt closes the door behind them and stands by the sidelines.

The tension in the room is palpable. One could hear a pin drop with all the silence. The Queen looks at Brittany from head to toe, a scrutinizing once over as if the dancer committed a crime. Brittany cowers under the monarch's glare, feeling every bit insecure. She could take a guess what Santana's Mother is thinking but there's barely any need for that. The displease and abhorrence in the Queen's demeanor at the sight of Brittany is coming through just fine.

On the other hand, The King is calm. He looks at Brittany with the same curiosity as one would wonder about finding an answer to a riddle. A foreign woman riddle, as it seems. All the while, Diego leans back on his seat drinking his cup of tea and giving a little wave to them.

Santana takes a deep breath as she walks towards her family. She smiles from ear to ear. " _Mama, Papa._ " Then gestures to the blonde. "This is Brittany. Brittany, they are my parents."

The Queen's stare could cut through glass. The older woman glosses her eyes over Brittany's whole being again and crosses her arm in a way that Brittany can only perceive as a high-class way of measuring someone up, Royalty style. The King slowly stands up from his seat while Diego stays put on the sofa.

"H-Hello, M-Ma'am, S-Sir." Brittany mutters under her breath.

The King and Queen shoot her a deadpan look. Santana and Diego remain silent. Kurt, however, looks horrified.

She looks back and forth at Santana and her parents with a panic-stricken demeanor. She doesn't miss Diego's encouraging smile as he sips his cup of tea.

"I-I- Uh… Y-You-" She stammers, shooting Santana's mother an almost reproachful look. The Queen barely reacts and only raises an eyebrow with a split second twitch of the eye.

"I-I mean, it's a p-pleasure to meet you, _Y-Your Eminence?_ " Brittany spews out with the last part meant as more of an inquiry rather than a statement.

Everyone is reduced to a certain comical disbelief.

The King and Queen blink owlishly. Diego chokes on his tea. Kurt looks like he's about to faint. Santana alternates between shooting warning glances at her brother and reining in her nervousness.

Brittany feels the room and catches their expressions. "O-Oh… I-I mean. U-Uh… Y-Your Grace? No! I-I meant, Y-Your _Gracias_?"

Diego purses his lips, trying to hide his amusement. It is not aimed at Brittany. But rather, at his father's torn between entertained and blank reaction and his mother's unfazed but confused expression. A definite first time for him to see them so caught off-guard by the lovable, innocent charm of one Brittany Pierce.

In the silence that ensues, Kurt clears his throat prompting for Brittany to look over her shoulder.

"It's 'Your Majesty'. 'Your Eminence' is reserved for the Pope." He whispers, subtly motioning back to the Royal family in front of them.

Brittany nods slowly, still perplexed at everything that's going on. Santana tugs on her hand and flashes her an encouraging smile.

"Brittany, is it?" The King's voice with its strong Spanish accent echoing in the room. Brittany dumbly looks at him, meeting his kind eyes. She immediately stands straighter upon realizing that he's addressing her.

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty." She sucks in a deep breath. "B-Brittany. Brittany Pierce."

The King nods once. He briefly glances at Santana. Then he smiles at Brittany. The warmest of smiles that can usually be seen on a cheery Santa Claus impersonator.

"It is nice to meet you, _Se_ _ñ_ _ora Pierce_." He holds out his hand.

Brittany's eyebrows raise. She sees Kurt and Santana share a look from the corner of her eyes. The brunette releases her hand and motions for her to approach her father.

Brittany takes his hand and shakes it. Still overwhelmed by the sudden influx of stimuli.

"Nice to m-meet you too, Your Majesty." She forces a smile that comes off as that of faking calmness amidst the pain. "T-That is a very good handshake."

The King chuckles, letting go of his hold of the blonde. He assumes what Brittany observes to be a classic Royal stance of holding both hands placed on top of the other in front of the torso. With the slight difference of the King's hands on top of his cane.

"You can call me Ricardo, _Mija_. Or if you so wish, 'Sir'. But _por favor_ , not 'Your Eminence'." He follows, giving off the cutest of puppy dog smiles one can see on a middle aged man.

Brittany chortles. A genuine laugh. She now knows where Santana's goofy charm seems to have come from. Where Diego's childlike enthusiasm is a direct stem of. From what she's seen in just the last minute, Santana's father can command the attention and respect of the whole room as a leader then be a snowball of a dad the next when it comes to his children. One can tell that he is a good King and simultaneously, an even greater father.

Brittany's joy becomes short-lived when she focuses her attention on the Queen. She extends her hand only for the woman to stare at it with hostility.

In her whole existence, she has never met such an intimidating woman. Not even her own mother, not even Santana, not even goddamn Miss Trunchbull from freaking Matilda. Hell no. Santana's mother? With sharp glares directed at her, eyes glossing down at her from head to toe, the look of disapproval just coursing through every vein in her body.

Brittany's heard of monster mother-in-laws. Or boyfriends' mothers who are complete and utter headaches for the girls they're dating. To say the least, Santana's mother isn't like that. In fact, Brittany could argue that it's a justified reaction to, what she assumes, the first time the Queen has met her child's, well, _romantic affiliation_.

But still, the indifference to her presence is shining bright like a diamond. Brittany can feel it seeping through her skin. The fear tingling down her spine. The woman has barely moved, lest raised her eyebrow nor pursed her lips. And yet, Brittany has practically swallowed her heart already.

If intimidation is the game, then Santana's mother is _the_ rule. The Queen of Spain is the real deal.

Brittany's about to speak but gets cut off by a wordless shrug. The Queen takes a deep breath and musters the best smile she can produce for the blonde. Which in Her Majesty's case, resembles that of a split-second smile or a twitch of the lips.

Brittany takes a subtle deep breath and reins in the disappointment caused by the rejection.

"You never offer a handshake to a Royal. _We_ offer it to you." The Queen proclaims.

Santana's cheerful mood turns sour in the blink of an eye. The brunette appears to prepare for a bout of words, taking a step forward towards them when Diego cuts in to alleviate the tension.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Brittany. Welcome to our home." Diego utters, this time offering a hand first. He follows it with a wink and a subdued nod that translates to just telling her to go along with it.

Brittany smiles at him. However, the tension never ceases to disappear. In fact, with every second that passes, she realizes that everyone's attention is focused on Santana's seething anger at how her Mother behaved. A fight that's waiting to happen behind closed doors. A talk that is about to be had in the highest of tensions.

They remain silent for a few seconds as they take to their respective sides once again. Brittany cozies up to Santana only to see her so on edge.

"Kurt," Santana, tone as cold as ice and gaze still locked on her Mother, "could you kindly escort Brittany on a tour of the Palace grounds?"

Kurt bows his head down in response. Brittany looks around all confused at the occupants of the room standing and staring at each other like characters in a still-life painting about to go to war with each other.

Kurt gestures for the door. The blonde glances at the King who smiles softly in return. Then she peers at Santana who faces her and reaches for her hand yet again.

"I will see you later, all right?" The Princess whispers and places a kiss on her hand.

Brittany nods, blushing. She turns to the Royal family again and not knowing what to do, awkwardly curtsies, eliciting a huge smile from the Father and Son while getting disinterest from the Mother.

"Shall we?" Kurt addresses Brittany with a peek at Santana who seems to have sent a silent message to him.

She anchors her arm with Kurt's in the most gentlemanly of ways he could offer. With a final worried glance at the standoff between Santana and the Queen, they exit the library.

* * *

The tension in the room could spark a World War in the making.

It has been a minute since Brittany and Kurt have gone but Santana and the Queen still continue to glare at each other as if their lives depended on it.

Santana takes a deep breath. She attempts to be the first one to break the ice only for the Queen to beat her to it.

"What are you up to again, Santana?" Maribel spews out with a biting tone, crossing her arms. "I have had it with your antics! All your reckless actions that reflect upon us! And you- You bringing that woman here-"

"That _woman_?" Santana cuts in, eyebrows furrowing. Her blood boiling of anger. Her whole demeanor assuming a defensive stance. Ricardo and Diego remain silent in the background, preparing to break up an impending fight.

The Queen disregards her comment. "It's enough that you humiliate us at every turn but you going out of your way to cause a scene in such a public function? Do you have any idea what you have done?! And all because of that American commoner chasing you like a dog-"

"She is not that kind of woman, _Mamá_ -"

"Oh, please, _Mija_. Everyone wants to become a royal. To marry one of our own and fulfill their dreams of becoming the next Princess Di." Maribel waves her hand in disregard.

"Not everyone shares the same view as you do, Mother." Santana grits her teeth, barely holding herself together. "She was nothing but kind to you and yet you were so rude to her."

"She disrupted the whole parade and put us at a security risk!"

"No. _I_ did that! She didn't do anything wrong and certainly doesn't warrant such a hostile response from you." Santana takes a step forward, fists balling up. "I asked Brittany to meet you and _Papá_ because she is incredibly important to me. The least you could do was pretend to be nice to her for a minute."

"I have no obligation to do anyone a favor. Just because you happen to find a- a-" Maribel stutters, choosing not to finish her sentence, glancing at her husband as if looking for help but to no avail.

Santana raises an eyebrow then with a sigh, darts her eyes to the ground. It's enough that some people all over the world, who don't even know her to start with, give her flak for being gay, for existing alone as a _different_ kind of princess that one is used to. But to get this kind of disapproval from her own family. From her own mother. As much as she wants to pretend that it's all right, that it's not a big deal. It is something she can't just brush aside since she's only human. It hurts that her own Mother was unfriendly towards Brittany. However, it's even more devastating that her Mother _still_ has difficulties accepting her for who she is.

"So, this is what it is all about, huh?" Santana lets out a deep breath. "After all this time, you still haven't managed to get past the fact that your daughter is a lesbian?" She emphasizes the last word with a biting tone.

Maribel tries to remedy the situation, looking again at Ricardo and now, Diego for help but nothing comes through. "I don't have a problem with you being y-you-"

"What? Gay?" Santana retorts then chortles, shaking her head. "We have been over this a thousand times, _Mamá_. I am who I am. I am never going to change for anyone and for anything. Not even _if_ I become Queen."

Maribel's face changes to that of shock. "Oh, you will become Queen, Santana. You have a duty to your country and your people. You will ascend the throne in a few weeks' time and I will let nothing stand in the way of that. Certainly not some tawdry little affair with a gold-digging American commoner who you barely know."

"Stop calling her ridiculous names! Her name is Brittany Pierce and she is not like that!" She shoots daggers towards her Mother's way. "I could not care less what you think of us, Mother. It won't change how I feel about her. But I will not hesitate for one second to relinquish my place and give up everything if you get in the way of my happiness. I love her and she loves me. And we will do as we please."

"Are you mad?!" Maribel cries out. " _Dios mio!_ This Brittany Pierce is someone you hardly know and you are willing to abandon everything for her?!"

"Yes! Mother, you cannot tell me whom to love and how to live my life!"

"This is ridiculous, Santana. You will do no such thing!"

"I have done pettier things for the wrong reasons, Mother." Santana smirks. "I will wholeheartedly do it if you make me choose between Brittany and the throne. This whole process has taken a lot out of me to be given the freedom to be who I am. All we want is to be together."

"Santana, I am sure she has outstanding qualities. She is indeed a very beautiful girl. However, once the press has gone over every fiber of her being with the additional pressure of you becoming Queen, the people will require reassurance."

"Fine. Then I will proudly ascend the throne."

Maribel lets out a deep breath, a bored look drawn on her face. "Good."

"As soon as you allow us to come out to the public as a couple." Santana immediately follows.

The Queen's expression contorts to that of outrage. "Out of the question! She is a commoner! She will not withstand such scrutiny in public. She is not made for that! With the fiasco you did this afternoon, the press will be relentless. You might as well marry her and be done with it to appease the public." Her mother comments sarcastically.

Santana shrugs, smiling. "Why not? We don't have laws prohibiting that. I'll marry her then. That's even better."

Maribel and Ricardo peer at each other with fantastic surprise. Santana throws her hands up out of exasperation. She moves around for a bit then trains her sights on Diego, who's nervous at the growing tension, then back to her Mother.

"Well, then I hope you think that Diego is fit to be King at the age of fourteen." She exclaims. The worried looks cross over the faces of her father and mother. The colors from Diego's face completely drain out. Then she follows, "Oh, wait. We're forgetting about the twins! Aunt Igrid's idiot stoner fraternal twins who would kill each other to become King or Queen. Oh, the people will rejoice!"

"Enough!" The King's booming voice cuts them off. He walks towards the Princess, stopping just in front of her with a towering pose. Santana drops the hostile demeanor and turns all her attention to her father with outstanding respect, once again assuming her usual royal stance.

"Santana, you will be the Queen of Spain. Do you hear me?" Ricardo says with a stern tone and an even serious expression.

"Yes, sir." Santana nods.

Ricardo breathes deeply then smiles, putting a hand over Santana's shoulder. "Now, about Brittany Pierce…" He trails off, eliciting a nervous reaction from the brunette. "I like that young lady. Very charming."

Santana chuckles. Her first genuine positive response out of this whole ordeal.

"If you say you love her as you do," Ricardo says. "and you believe she will make you happy, then marry her if it is what you wish."

Santana doesn't flinch. She may be impulsive and have regretted some of her decisions jumping off of that but the topic of Brittany is one of the few things she will never have to think about, in the most positive way there is. It may be premature, at least a bit early in some respect, but why prolong something when you are sure that it is where you are headed eventually?

"Ricardo, you cannot mean that! We are all tired. This is not the perfect time-"

"No, this is the perfect time." He retorts with a side glance at Maribel then back to smiling widely at his daughter. "It is at the end of a man's life when he realizes how important his decisions were at the beginning. You have long sacrificed for us. It is your time to focus on your happiness, _Mija_. I would be overjoyed to know what witchcraft Brittany Pierce has done to make you feel this way." He adds with a grin, something that Santana mirrors.

"Is she going to stay with you?" Diego comments from the side, grinning from ear to ear as well.

Santana, speechless at the sudden turn of events, finds it hard to muster the right words. "I hope she does."

Without any second thoughts, and with one last glare at her Mother, Santana heads for the door.

* * *

"Oh god, oh god, oh god…" Brittany repeats over and over again, placing a hand over her forehead.

"Uhmm… Britt, I can hear you." Kurt comments beside her, tugging on her anchored arm in his as they exit the Mansion. "Inside voice, girl. Inside voice." He adds, chuckling.

"I'm sorry. I-I'm just-" She takes a deep breath. "' _Your Eminence'_? I said, ' _Your Eminence'_ , Kurt! I might as well just have dropped down on my knees and prayed to the Father, the Son, and the Holy goddamn Spirit!" Brittany shakes her head in mild annoyance. "Oh man, I blew it! It's so important to Santana and I blew it."

"Come on, I'm sure the Pope found it amusing. Oh, the King. I meant the King found it amusing." Kurt chimes in, bumping Brittany on the shoulder in a loving gesture.

"I don't know. I-I mean, the Queen hates me, I think. She's a bit scary."

"She really is." Kurt forces a smile then shrugs.

They turn left towards a path leading to another courtyard of sorts. Briefly, wondering how many courtyards there are in the grounds, or moreover, how big this place is to start with, she looks around her in curiosity. Wherever she looks, there seems to be a statue of a person or that of an animal. At one point, she saw a statue of a horse. Lots of trees, a change from the sights of the big city back in New York. Vast Bermuda grass covering the surface of the grounds that can rival the best golf courses and lo and behold, another fountain.

As they stroll along the path, with Kurt babbling about an idiotic thing Santana's great grandfather did, she catches a sight to behold from afar. From her line of sight, in the far side of the Palace grounds, she can see a lake with the most beautiful background of a bridge and the impending sunset. It's one of the most beautiful sights of nature and certainly, unprecedented romantic ambience that Brittany has ever seen in her life.

"…And that's the history of how they don't allow cats in the Palace anymore." Kurt relays the story with a grin. Brittany nods along, not really catching anything aside from the last part of the tale.

They turn right toward a wide path where a wide courtyard and fountain greets them, along with several parked luxury cars. Unlike the other walkways that lead to other landscapes and tour-worthy sights, this one leads to another residential building behind the landscape exterior where they came from.

This residential building is a three-storey house. Based on the exterior, it is more modern in terms of structure and design. Lots of wide windows, few corners, long brick to gray to black colors. Smaller than the Mansion by a small margin but more chic and stylish.

"This is where we live." Kurt proudly states as they stop in front of the house.

Brittany's eyebrows raise, looking around the area. From the sports cars, the modern residential, and the short distance between this house and the nearby stables and practice ground for equestrians as Kurt mentioned in passing a while ago, it all does speak like Santana.

"Nice place, Kurt." She comments, smiling. "You two really are attached to the hips, aren't you?"

"For the record, it was Santana who insisted that I stay with her in this crib. I was perfectly fine with staying in the employees' quarters but what can I say, Santana can't get enough of me. Or you know, she wanted a personal maid. Which I am not, by the way."

"I'm so going to tell her that you said that."

"Oh, please. She hears that on a daily basis."

They both chuckle. Kurt speaks again, pointing to the upper side of the house. "Santana gets the entire third floor of the house, like a penthouse of some kind. I get the second floor. And the first, is a common area for us with the big kitchen, dining area, and receiving area for visitors. The house has twelve rooms but we pimped out the spare rooms for whatever purpose we wanted to. We also have a small swimming pool in our backyard."

"Wow." Brittany nods, still staring at the house. "I think that's nice that you two live together. Only goes to show how strong your bond is."

"Yes. I've taught her how to cook among other things. Believe it or not, we live quite the normal life here. When it's just that two of us, she's not that different from the Santana you know in New York. I suppose it's the pressures of the royal life that make it seem otherwise."

Brittany glances curiously at him, a thought popping at the top of her head. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you- you know…" She trails off, gesturing for him to decipher the unspoken words.

"You mean, how I got here?"

She nods.

Kurt smiles. "I took a wrong turn."

Brittany's forehead creases. "What do you mean you took a-"

He cuts her off, assuming a dramatic tone as if starting a bedtime story. "T'was supposedly my gap year before college. However, I didn't get in to NYADA. It crushed me and I wanted to get away as far as possible to get my head right. I was intending to go to Italy but all flights were booked and I decided, quite spontaneously, that Spain wasn't such a bad place.

So, here I was, a little birdy alone in a foreign city with a language I can't even speak. It was my last day in the city and my last destination was a tour in the Royal Palace of Madrid, which as you know is the Royal Family's other residence turned museum. I remember this hot guy on the tour and I were making eyes at each other the whole time. And since I was feeling adventurous, we tried to find a, you know, more private room in the Palace for-"

"Uh-huh. I get the point." Brittany cringes then motions for him to continue.

"So, he went ahead and stupid me wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Then like I said, I took a wrong turn. I ended up entering a room where people in business attires were waiting for something or someone. And before I knew it, I was ushered into another room when someone confused me for someone else."

"Ushered into the room for what?"

"A job interview. One for the Royal Princess's Secretary, to be exact." He smiles. "Apparently, the last one quit because the Princess was 'too mean' to her. I didn't know what was happening, really. I looked like garbage compared to the other interviewees and I didn't even have a resum _e_ on me!" Kurt chuckles, then continues his thought.

"And so, they talked to me in Spanish and asked me a bunch of questions. I looked like Dorothy the first time she arrived in Oz! The only legit response I had was either " _Si_ " or " _Gracias_ " which meant utter jack to anything the interviewer was saying. A minute into it I knew I just had to get out of there. So, I stopped her and just told her outright, "Bitch, I am lost and I'm ready to bust a nut here if I just agreed to being kidnapped in Spanish."

Brittany laughs. "Then what happened?"

"Out of nowhere, in the silence of the room, I heard someone laughing from the corner. And lo and behold, it was Santana. I must have charmed her or something because the next thing I knew, I was offered a gigantic salary and hired on the spot by order of the Princess herself. They said that they would take care of everything else that I needed to stay in the country if I accepted the job and after a rigorous background check. Having been broke at that time and having no direction in life whatsoever, I took it without hesitations even if I didn't speak an ounce of Spanish, which didn't seem to be a problem for Santana. And the rest, is as we say, is history." He ends with a grin.

Brittany mirrors his expression. "What do you think made her hire you? And how did the first few weeks go?"

"He was the only one who made me laugh that day. I thought he had the audacity to stand up to me and just be himself unlike the others who were lame." Santana's voice echoes behind them. Brittany turns and sees the brunette still wearing the same army outfit from a while ago, leaning beside a tree while sporting a wicked grin and shaking her head in disbelief. "And to answer your question, the first few weeks were terrible. We barely understood each other and we fought all the time." The Princess adds.

"But with time and lots of teaching each other Spanish and English, we finally got the hang of being together. It was a perfect fit, after all." Kurt smiles. "She can be a pain in the ass sometimes though."

"I heard that."

"I meant for you to hear that. You know how much I love you, Your Royal Highness." Kurt quips, eyebrow raised.

"You remind me of it with your daily outbursts of things that I'm sure is your fault but I ultimately get blamed for." Santana winks at him then places all her attention on Brittany. "Hi. How have you been?"

Without further prompting, Kurt quietly withdraws from the scene and leave the two to their moment.

Brittany can't help but smile at the brunette. Santana walks towards her and pulls the blonde in for a kiss, one that doesn't mask how much they've been missing each other.

"So?" Santana asks with a smile when they pull apart. Brittany shakes her head in a bid to get her head right.

"O-Oh. I've been well. Just gatecrashed a parade, barged into a parliament opening, ran away with the Princess, and met the Royal Family of Spain. No big deal. Typical day." Brittany shrugs off nervously.

Santana laughs. She leads the blonde to take a seat on a nearby park bench overlooking a lake with the sunset as a backdrop in the distance.

"You have no idea how delighted I am to see you here. I-I thought that when I left New York that it would be the last time I'd ever see you. I- I am sorry for everything, Brittany. In advance, I'm sorry for what's about to become a barrage of media coverage on us. On you. A-And I know you have a lot of questions too. I have never properly apologized to you for all that has happened and I am so very sorry." Santana rambles, looking down in shame.

Brittany smiles and takes the brunette's hands in hers. "I'm not going to lie. You have got a lot of explaining to do. And you're right, I do have a bunch of questions that you need to answer-"

"And I will. I will tell you everything you want to know, all right? There would be no more secrets on my part."

"Good."

Santana takes a deep breath. "However, I do have one question of my own."

"Already?" Brittany teases then motions for her to continue.

"Is this just a visit or are you planning to stay for a while?"

Brittany had yet to ponder on the matter. If she's going to be honest, it hasn't even crossed her mind yet. Her initial goal was to go after Santana in Spain. And now that has been accomplished, she's blanking on the next step in this so-called mission. Why had she gone here in the first place again? Somehow, when it involves Santana, reasons and justifications are the first ones out the window. Is that even a good thing? Why is she even thinking like this in the first place as if Santana's not asking her a goddamn question in real time?

"Britt?" Santana repeats, looking at her as if she's a priceless gem in a museum.

Brittany snaps out of it and gazes into those beautiful brown eyes. Oh, she could be lost in them forever and she would never want to leave. And now, looking at this wonderful human being, she knows the reason why she is here in the first place. The way she feels for Santana is beyond anything she's ever felt, ever imagined. She is where she needs to be.

"For as long as you'll have me." She retorts. Santana lights up almost immediately, breaking out into the most beautiful of smiles.

"B-But how about school? New York-"

A fleeting thought of her lackluster audition for her dream dance company crosses her mind and pinches her heart for a passing second.

"School is practically done. There is nothing left for me in New York or anywhere else, San." She smiles. "If you want me, I'm here."

"And I do. I would love for you to stay with me."

The blonde sighs in relief then smiles. "I just have to find a small apartment in a not-so-shady place somewhere here and I'll be fine-"

"Stay with me here in the Palace. Please." Santana cuts her off, much to her surprise. "We have more than enough room in our quarters and I'm sure Kurt wouldn't mind having another roommate in the house. It would be ideal, actually. If you don't feel comfortable here at all, then my apartment in the city is all yours."

She blinks. "I-I would love to stay with you but don't we need the King and Queen's permission first?"

"We don't." The brunette utters with a cold tone. "If you so wish to reside with me here then we shall make it happen. If you want me to kick Kurt out of the house, I will gladly do so."

Brittany chuckles. "Okay then."

"Okay what?"

"I'll stay with you in your fancy house but don't kick out Kurt. I want to get out of this place alive."

They both laugh. A comfortable silence ensues. Santana stares at her deep in thought, almost boring a hole on her face.

Brittany raises an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Santana blinks owlishly. "Well, I've been thinking about something." She pauses, suddenly nervous. "And it's going to be very sudden."

Brittany's heart instantly beats faster. She has a gut feeling that things are about to get real complicated for the better.

"Brittany, I love you." Santana sighs, grinning from ear to ear. "There. I said it. I have fallen desperately in love with you. You are all I think about, day and night. You fill my thoughts with your beauty, your laughter, your intelligence. Every single thing in this world pales in comparison to how stunning of a person you are, inside and out."

"Oh my god." Brittany mutters to herself upon realizing where this is going.

"You are the love of my life, Brittany. Some people will never have the privilege to meet theirs but I have already found you and I don't intend on throwing this chance with you away." Santana takes a box from her pocket. She slides from the seat and gets down on one knee. Brittany does all she can not to squeal out loud, taken completely aback by everything that's happened in the span of an hour from the time she disrupted the whole parade.

"Brittany Susan Pierce," Santana opens the box unveiling a priceless heirloom of a ring. "My Brubru," She adds, eliciting a chuckle and a teasing reprimand from Brittany. "Will you marry me?"

It felt as if the whole world stopped for a moment. The backdrop of the sunset, the light hitting the lake, and their surroundings all forming the loveliest setting that could only be rivaled by a romantic movie.

Brittany fixes her eyes on Santana. She cannot think straight, as if all her thoughts are devoid of rhyme or reason. This is all too fast. Or is it? They have only met each other about three months ago and barely considered to be dating. Then Santana proposes. Is this how the Royals do things? Or is just how crazy in love couples act? Moreover, why is there a nagging thought urging her to say 'yes'?

She has once heard, or rather read, from her notes while studying Spanish Art about this piece about two lovers from different worlds. That even though they could not be more different, their love transcended everything and they didn't let it hinder their happy ever after. It makes her wonder that if you really have found the love of your life, why waste any more time when you can be with that person for the rest of your life?

Brittany gives out a sigh. This might probably be the craziest thing she'd ever do but she has to admit that it feels right. She smiles which somehow brings color to Santana's pale, nervous face.

"I love you so much, Santana." Brittany utters with passion and conviction. "Yes. The answer is 'yes'."

* * *

 **I missed you guys! Drop a review, will you? :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**I am so glad to be back. I must say, the incessant reviews and messages for me to continue this story gave me the motivation to write again. Thank you.**

 **Extra long chapter for everyone ;)**

* * *

Brittany breathes in the floral scent aerating around Santana's bedroom. She's been awake for the past hour but has yet to make any effort to get up from the most comfortable bed she has ever laid on. For now, pretending to be dead to the world and mindlessly stare at nothing in particular will have to do.

It's her first morning in Spain. The insane events at the Parade yesterday seem to be that of a distant memory with one turn after another. With the shiny diamond staring back at her on her ring finger, the grandeur of the sudden life she's been thrust to, indeed she would have to take a moment alone to collect herself.

The first to know about the engagement was, of course, Kurt. After the initial shock, near blackout, and split-second hysteria, he was overjoyed at the prospect of it. If Brittany didn't know any better, he was more excited about planning their future wedding.

Brittany was ushered to stay in Santana's Manor in the Palace grounds, to Kurt's joy of another roommate in the house. The interior of the Manor is even more impressive. Whereas the Royal Family's Mansion is structured as a classic yet high-class residence, Santana's Manor is modern in design with its lush wood colors and contemporary furniture.

It became a haze after that. Everyone in the Palace working at a non-human pace tending to Royal matters, or as she assumes, regaining a bit of the sanity and balance dismantled upon her arrival.

Images of Santana's proposal take over her thoughts. A huge smile crosses over her features. The Princess is everything good and wonderful and stunning and perfect in this world. It makes Brittany think of whatever did she do in this world to deserve her.

At the back of her head, however, there are random notions now that the adrenaline of yesterday has wane off. Mere contemplations. Are they not going too fast? She has only met Santana's parents once. She doesn't speak Spanish at all. The only landmark she has been to is the freaking Palace itself. She just turned twenty-four and she's already getting married? She hasn't even had the chance to tell her parents or friends about this yet but she's sure the whole world already knows what with all the media explosion yesterday.

Brittany snaps out of it. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the positive. She loves Santana. So very much. The prospect of getting married to her, to the love of her life, is a dream come true. It doesn't matter what anyone thinks or says. What matters is she has never felt this elated and deep in love her entire life.

She hugs the pillow beside her, one that smells like Santana. The brunette was the one who offered for Brittany to stay with her in her bedroom. To treat this as her home now. She reaches for the note Santana left on the nightstand.

 _I didn't want to wake you. I'll be back by noon. I love you._

 _P.S. Kurt means well. Beware when he starts singing show tunes. Run._

Brittany smiles to herself upon reading it again. The sooner she sees her fiancée again, the better. The bed certainly feels empty without her, that much she can't ignore. _Their_ bed. Last night's _activities_ didn't really mask how much they missed each other. The dull but good ache in certain muscles of her body proves that. And if last night was any indication of what's to come, she's sure that their bedroom will be her favorite place in all of Spain from now on.

Three loud knocks echo in the huge room spanning for almost a quarter of the whole floor. The sound jolts her body awake and at the same time, makes her nervous. Before she gets the chance to react, the double doors open with Kurt, dressed in a suit, entering the room.

"Rise and shine, _Miss_ Brittany!" Kurt exclaims, opening the curtains to let the light in. Brittany sits up, pulling up the comforter to cover her night gown that's barely covering anything. Two women in a staff uniform enter the room with a breakfast cart in tow.

"Seeing as you have no secretary yet, I would be filling in the spot for now. We shall go over your packed schedule in a while but first, a little perk me up?" He says, motioning to the cart.

The blonde could only stare, still dumbfounded. "O-Oh. I don't drink coffee. I-I could just get some water in the kitchen-" She trails off, noticing the unfazed expression of the staff still awaiting her orders. She gives up and shrugs, following up with, "Jasmine tea with a splash of milk?"

The woman beside the cart nod and get to work at once. The other servant walks towards her with a robe in hand. She stares at it dumbly. She doesn't move in her spot until Kurt clears his throat and gestures for him to get up from the bed and let the woman help her wear it that she does so.

Kurt grabs her hand and gestures for her to sit on the nearby breakfast nook where her breakfast is served. A large cup of Jasmine tea, a plate of Churros, and a sweet roll. On the side, there are slice of fruits, bread, milk, and a jug of water with slices of lemon in it.

"O-Oh. T-Thank you, ma'am." She mutters under her breath but to no avail when the women leave the room almost immediately. She turns to the secretary. "I'm sorry. This is all so new to me. I'm still trying to figure out if this is a dream."

"You need to breathe, girl. It's another day. Breathe." Kurt takes deep breaths with the blonde anxiously mirroring him.

"Where is Santana?" She cuts in, taking a bite of what is by far, the best churros she's ever tasted in her life.

"In a meeting with the Prime Minister. You will get to see her later, don't worry." He utters, eyes on his phone. "All right. I talk, you eat." He points to the food.

"We have a busy day for you today. It starts with a dress fitting in fifteen minutes for your first public appearance with Santana at your official outing as an engaged couple to the press on Friday. Also, your gown for the Princess's coronation as Queen. So eat, and eat fast." He smiles. "You will meet with your Royal Etiquette tutor for your 'Princess' lessons at nine thirty which will last for two hours."

"P-Princess lessons?"

"Yes. Etiquettes, manners, posture… That kind of thing. Royals have a certain way of movement and speech, as you can tell. You will need to master them as you will become one." He smiles, then looks down on his phone again. "Next, you will finally get to see Santana for lunch at noon and in that free hour, you may call your parents and friends. At one, you will have your first meeting with our PR head. She will walk you through everything there is to know about publicity and the like. At two, you and Santana will meet with your wedding planner. At three-thirty, you have an appointment with your nutritionist. At four, you will meet with your Spanish lessons tutor. That one is for your sake so you can survive in this country. You will have to learn to be fluent in Spanish in record time, dear. May God have mercy on your poor soul. I will pray for you." Kurt adds in a monotone. Brittany gulps loudly.

"By the way, and before I forget, this will be your monthly salary for your work here." He hands her a note. Her eyes almost bulge out the second she laid eyes on the six figures written on the paper. In Euros, no less.

She doesn't get to react when Kurt somehow catches on to her hundred expressions and answers the questions she'd only been thinking.

"Even royals get paid for the publicity work they do. You weren't supposed to get paid since you haven't been inducted into the family yet but Santana took three quarters of her cut and gave it to you. All your financial responsibilities, including your apartment in New York have been taken care of. No need to worry about it anymore." He adds. A relief comes over her knowing that Mercedes won't have to shoulder the rent all to herself in wake of her uprooting her life in an instant.

"As you know, there has yet to be an official announcement of your engagement with the Princess." He continues. "The Royal House of Bourbon will have a press release on Friday. The engagement announcement wherein you will face the press will be on the same day and it is only then that you can make your presence public. You will be henceforth known as 'Miss Brittany Pierce' for now. Upon marriage, it will change into something more official.

"As a guideline during this period, please refrain from talking to anyone that isn't from the Royal Household. Refrain from going out of the Palace. Everything you need will be given to you. Most of all, refrain from public displays of affection with Santana before the announcement."

Brittany's forehead creases as she holds up both hands, overwhelmed by it all. "W-Wait." She sighs deeply, her throat becoming dry at the abundance of tasks at hand. "W-What- I've barely been here for an entire day and I haven't spent that much time with Santana."

"Unfortunately, these matters are out of the question. These are directives that we must follow. Otherwise, we might incur the wrath of the Queen and no one wants that, believe me."

Brittany pouts. She remembers the icy exchange she had upon meeting the Queen. How can you break down that kind of barrier? Is there enough effort in the world to make Santana's Mother accept her?

Kurt offers a sympathetic smile. "Know that out there, you are a priceless artifact and every single one of them wants a piece of you. They are begging and doing everything they can to get a glimpse of you. Everyone in the world who has a phone and a television knows your name, Britt. They're uncovering your story as we speak. Freedom will be relative from now on. You must be well-behaved at all times. It's what the people expect from their future Princess, anyway." He raises an eyebrow to emphasize Brittany's presence.

She raises an eyebrow. "'P-Princess'?"

" _Si._ I'm still unsure of how it all works. But seeing that you're a commoner and Santana is already of a higher title, you cannot be a Queen too. You can't be on the same level, tutelage-wise. Only Santana can hold the Queen title. By name, you will be a Princess consort. I'll ask around and we'll figure it out."

Brittany's heart stops beating for a second. It escaped her thoughts for a moment. She couldn't care less about formalities and titles. All the while she had only thought of marrying Santana, the Princess. What she failed to remember is Santana _is_ the future Queen of Spain and by virtue, she will be marrying _the_ future Queen of Spain, which means that she will be-

"Oh my god." She utters, breathless and in shock.

"What?"

"I-I just- Princess? I will become a real-life Princess? Are you sure? A-Are you sure, Kurt?" She says in a panic. "Do you think the people won't mind me becoming a Princess if all I've seen is the airport?"

"It won't matter, Britt. They're going to love you. I'm sure." Kurt grins all dopey. The man has yet to belt out a show tune but a little bit of Brittany already feels like running.

Another knocking ensues, and this time a middle-aged brunette enters with several assistants in tow carrying fabrics and measurements. It's her first appointment of the day.

"Ah, _Senora_ Sonia." Kurt greets the woman with a kiss on both cheeks. "It is so nice to see you again."

The Sonia woman blurts out something cheerful back in Spanish, a brief drop of Santana's name which Kurt replies to in perfect Spanish. Then he motions to Brittany.

"Britt, this is Madam Sonia, she is Santana's personal wardrobe specialist. She makes everything from Gucci to Hermes to Prada. This woman is a magician." Kurt proudly states.

Madam Sonia blushes. "Kurt, you flatter me." She utters in a thick European accent.

" _Si, magnifique._ This is _Senora_ Pierce, as you know."

Brittany stands up and gives off the sheepish of smiles while holding out a hand. The woman scrutinizes her from head to toe and ignores the gestures.

Kurt purses his lips. "She is at your mercy, _Senora_. I will leave you two alone for a while." He adds and exits the room before Brittany could protest.

"Turn." Madam Sonia utters with a stern tone.

"I-I-" She barely gets the word out when the older woman twirls her body around. Then steps back, sizing up the dancer from head to toe as if deep in thought.

Brittany blinks owlishly. Staring at the woman in all the awkwardness it grants them until Madam Sonia stares right back at her with squinting eyes.

"You, my dear, have a dancer's posture and body. _Si._ Very good. However, your stance is something to be best ignored." The older woman critiques, hand on her chin and shaking her head.

"O-Oh."

"You look like you are anticipating a fight with that McGregor man. You have to relax and throw your shoulders back or perhaps you'd like me to give you boxing gloves. You are not in a rumble. _Relaaaax!_ " Madam Sonia exclaims holding Brittany's shoulders back. "Very well. Let's begin!" She snaps her finger. Her two assistants come running towards her side. "Do you have a dress for the press announcement?"

"D-Dress? I have black pants and a white blouse. That's all I have in my bag. I think it's presentable enough." She grins proudly.

Madam Sonia stares in shock at her as if she's near extinct animal running around in a hunter's paradise.

" _Dios,_ give me strength." The older woman cries out. "We have a lot of work to do, _Senora_ Pierce. Pray for a miracle."

* * *

"All we need is the reassurance that the Monarchy still has the best interests of the nation at hand, Your Majesty. Given that the commotion yesterday at the parade has been an international sensation, it is safe to say that it detracts the attention from the current issues that need to be dealt with." The Secretary of State argues. Some of the public officials in the Palace's huge meeting room nod in agreement.

Santana rubs her temples, attempting to ease the incoming headache. The Parliament members called upon an emergency private assembly with regard to the 'fiasco' at the Parade and overwhelming media coverage. In attendance are the highest public officials in power which includes Prime Minister Martinez and the Secretary of State among others. The Royal Family is in attendance as well. All of them congregating around a table.

"There is no need to worry about anything, Rodrigo." The King addresses him, head held high. "We assure you that the Monarchy is highly committed to serving the country and has its best interests at heart."

The members cower a bit in the King's presence. "I hope you understand our doubts, Your Majesty." The Governor of Barcelona chimes in. "As shown in every news channel and media outlets, this American woman just happens to appear at such a public outing. More so, Her Royal Highness further fuels the fire by breaking protocol."

The King and Santana briefly glance at one another.

"Yes. We understand what you mean, Governor." Santana speaks up. "But please do not take my actions as mere rebellion or a deliberate stunt to tarnish the Monarchy's image. What happened yesterday reflects upon me and only me. I take full responsibility of it. In this regard, I have no plans to repeat such a reckless action."

They all look at her with a certain skepticism in their eyes. Santana can feel their doubts shining through. Not long ago, they were looking at her with a degree of pity in their stares. How such a clueless and as it visibly appears to them, a hesitant Princess will become Queen. And quite recently, there was awe and pride in the way they interacted with her. She felt it then. A shift in the air. A change in the way they talked to her. Up until a few weeks ago, they were treating her the same way as they do the King and Queen. In their eyes, she was starting to come into her own and out of parents' shadow.

But now, it's as if all of that growth has gone to waste. They are hesitant to believe her. In her. In their eyes, she is back to the reckless, impulsive Princess she is. In their eyes, this sorry excuse of a Royal Princess will become their Queen. She doesn't have to go far to notice that. All she needs to do is look at her Mother on her right, throwing her icy glances every now and then. She would never admit it but it hurts Santana more than she can say.

"If you'll allow me to perfectly candid, Your Royal Highness." A Senator echoes from the side.

"Please, Senator." Santana motions for her and places all her attention on the brown-haired woman.

The Senator nods. "We have all heard random news about the American woman you were with. And given that you are the only out Royal in the world who happens to be gay, may I ask what exactly is your relationship with her?"

Santana breathes deeply. Everyone looks to her to answer the question. She can see her Mother's icy stare from her peripheral vision, her Father and Brother waiting for her to deal with the situation herself.

She had told them about the proposal and about Brittany staying in Spain last night. As expected, their reactions mirrored that of yesterday. Diego was overjoyed at the prospect of Brittany staying for good and gaining another sister in the process. The King held the same jovial demeanor he had when they talked about Brittany. And the Queen, well, her Mother didn't even bother to speak at all. She simply shot her the coldest of stares that depicted how much of a mistake this engagement is. They have yet to talk to each other since yesterday's altercation.

For now, everything related to her engagement to Brittany is a secret. Only the appropriate staff in the Household, mainly the PR team who are coordinating with the office of the Princess, are told of it. Everyone is suddenly working double time to attend to matters involving Brittany and Santana.

Santana's stare doesn't waver at the Senator. If there's one thing she is proud of, it is how she took a stand and proved to herself that she is capable of being her own self. That she is more than capable of showing to the woman she loves that she is prepared to go the distance with her.

"You will find out on Friday when Bourbon House makes the announcement. It's all under the radar for now."

The room erupts into a chaotic plea and argument. The Royal family remain unfazed by this. The King holds up a hand as if to silence them.

"Your Majesty, this is absurd!" A lanky Senator argues. "That American woman will be the death of the Monarchy! It's obvious that this romance is more than a fling. Relationships between Royals and commoners are still looked down upon. What more between two women? It will be the death of the country!"

By now, Santana is fuming. She can practically feel the anger rising in her throat, the urge to punch this Senator for having the guts to disrespect her. It irks her why she has to defend her happiness to people that have nothing do with her lest know her personally. But she understands, in a way, that she holds power in the country. The highest power soon enough. And these people have to acknowledge that.

Santana rises from her seat much to everyone's shock. The gesture silencing them almost immediately and surprising the family. She looks down on her detractors with a fantastic fury in her eyes.

"I do not appreciate your tone, Senator." She addresses the lanky jerk who cowers. "Or any of you questioning my relationship that you have no part of. If it were a man, none of you would even speak ill of it." She pauses. "I understand that you have qualms about the abruptness of it all but I assure you that all your opinions do not matter when it comes to my personal life. None of you, not even His or Her Majesty, have the power nor right to draw me away from my right to be happy."

The officials look down in shame, resorting to silence.

"As your future Queen, I guarantee you that the I hold the best interests of our country. I assure you that I will do my job and everything in my power for the betterment of the people and our nation. However, if any of you, and I mean anyone in this room, proceed to derail my happiness, I can tell you right here and now that I will not hesitate to step down from the throne and the lot of you can be left to bloody deal with the remnants of chaos that will be left in my wake."

A slight fear takes over everyone's features. A twinkle of pride and mischief in Diego and the King's eyes. Santana continues to command the whole room.

"If you have doubts, then best to keep it to yourselves and forget it. In fact, you will all publicly support my relationship for the sake of the public trust. Do I make myself clear?"

Everyone agrees in a defeated manner.

Santana stares them down then satisfied with herself, nods. "Then I declare this assembly, dismissed."

* * *

Brittany takes a breather from the hectic day she's had. Three days in Madrid and she's still yet to adjust from the new life she's been thrust into.

Lessons after lessons. Meetings after meetings. And the worst part of it all? She cannot understand almost everything that's being said or done around her. Sure, they have the courtesy of speaking English in close quarters but through mere observations and listening to everyone speak, Brittany's practically in Wonderland.

Three days in Madrid and she was hoping that most of the time she'd get to spend it with Santana. But like her, the Princess is swamped with meetings and whatever it is that Royals do. If she had understood correctly earlier, it may have something to do with her abrupt arrival. Perhaps she's causing a lot of disruption by just being here? Well, she hopes not for she desires to stay with Santana for a long time.

Brittany drops to the couch in the first floor living room of the Manor. Everything in this house is simply state of the art and the latest of all brands. She's beginning to settle in thanks to both of her roommates making sure she's comfortable. She even has her own walk-in closet full of designer brands she couldn't pronounce courtesy of Madam Sonia. Comparing this to her 'dystopian' apartment back in Bushwick is quite literally Heaven and Hell.

For the first time today, she's truly alone. She leans back on the sofa and relaxes her whole body. Her eyes dart to the television screen as wide as the wall itself and decides upon herself to watch some television.

Upon turning it on, Brittany is greeted by a local news station channel. And unlucky for her, she sees herself being reported on. All of them speculating the true nature of her relationship with Santana. Images of her in NYU come and go in the screen in between the reporter speaking. Even her home life in Georgia is being dug up. Turning it into another channel, a fictitious tale of her closeted life is sprawled on screen. In another, her high school nemesis is being interviewed about being 'best friends' with her until now. If she changes the channel to Lifetime, she wouldn't even be shocked to see a film about her life. What a load of crap. It seems that they're all reporting the same story. Even the international ones.

She sighs deeply. Aside from her privacy being invaded to an extreme, it frustrates her that she doesn't understand a single thing these local news channels are saying. Her Spanish tutor, however amazing the old chap may be, is for sure getting headaches teaching her so far. Not only does she have difficulties in learning Spanish but even her English is composed of the terrible American slang of this _lit_ generation.

And don't get her started on 'Princess' lessons. Who knew it takes so much to move so little? To be so finessed as if you're gliding in air. To making an impact with your stance alone. There's even an etiquette to walking and standing up! She has only had two lessons so far and she's already losing her mind. With all she's learned so far, no wonder Santana appears ethereal to commoners with how she behaves and acts around them. How does Santana do all this so effortlessly?

The Parade scene flashes on the screen. Brittany watches Santana reach for her from the crowd. And just like that, her spirits go up. She's never noticed it then but seeing it on television now, Santana never takes her eyes off her. The butterflies in her stomach rage over at the image of the brunette's smile.

She can never deny that Santana naturally brings out this romantic side of her. A side she never even thought she had. It's refreshing. In a way, she's rediscovering who she is outside her little dance bubble in university. It makes her wonder what else she's capable of.

She snaps out of her little trance and glances at the wall clock. She has an hour to herself before Kurt comes home to do last minute prep for tomorrow's press conference. She also remembers that she promised herself to call her friends in New York. They're all probably worried out of their wits wondering about her. She dials Mercedes's number. It picks up on the third ring.

" _Guuurl!"_ Mercedes shouts, taking Brittany aback.

"H-Hey, Cedes! I'm sorry-" She starts in an unsure tone but get cut off almost immediately by incessant group screaming from the other line. "Y-You don't have to shout- My eardrums will-" She puts the phone away from her ear for a second before speaking again, the group screaming never ceasing.

After what must have been a minute, the shouting subsides. "Can I talk now, ladies?" Brittany utters with a smile on her face.

" _You guys, let the Disney princess talk!_ " Sugar's voice booms from the background.

 _"Fine, fine. We'll put you in speaker mode."_ Mercedes utters.

Brittany lets out a chuckle. "So, how's everything there?"

" _Oh, I don't know, you tell us!"_ Tina interjects. _"We just watched you make the most dramatic slash badass entrance ever on TV. I mean, in the middle of a parade, Britt!"_

" _Iconic. Amazing. Spectacular. Remarkable. Dramatic!_ " Sugar cries out. _"I am so proud of you, Britt. Our being extra has finally caught on to you."_

" _Baby girl, that will go down as one of the best moments on the news! Everybody's talking about it! Santana's face was unbelievable. It's what I look like when I'm starving and y'all starting to look like fried chicken to me."_ Mercedes utters.

Brittany shakes her head upon being reminded of such a dreadful public exposition. She walks toward the windows, peering behind the curtains to take her mind off of the memory. The beautiful palace grounds greet her sight as is several Palace guards scattered around the vicinity of Santana's manor. Kurt told her that they're tightening security during this 'exciting' time, that it will stop after the announcement and press conference.

"Y-Yeah, I'm really glad she saw me." She murmurs, sighing.

A brief silence takes over. She could imagine her friends looking at each other. The three of them wondering about the use of a somber tone in what they perceive as a joyous occasion.

" _I sense penetration in your tone, milady._ " Sugar speaks first.

" _It's apprehension. God, Sugar. That's so far. How did you even get that wrong?"_ Mercedes responds, laughing. Brittany cracks a smile.

" _Or maybe I got it right?_ "

" _Anyway, fornication matters aside,"_ Tina cuts in. " _wanna tell us what's up, Britt? Are they torturing you there? Are they upsetting you on purpose?"_

"What? No, of course!" Brittany cries out. "I-It's just- I guess I'm a bit nervous? I mean, I'm nowhere in my comfort zone here. Things are a li'l bit crazy."

 _"From one to Sugar, how crazy are we talking about?_ " Mercedes says.

Brittany raises both eyebrows and lets out a deep breath, shaking her head to herself. She walks back to the lounge chair to take a seat. "If one Sugar is equivalent to ten. Then maybe, about three Sugars?"

" _Woah. I know I'm extra, but three Sugars? Damn, son! How's that like?"_ Sugar's voice echoes.

"Yeah. I don't know if I'll get in trouble for this but I just have to tell someone or I'll go crazy, guys. Just please, _please_ , promise you won't tell anyone. I might go to jail for this and I swear to baby Jesus that I will drag you here to Spain by extradition if I go down for this."

" _Come to Mama, Britt."_ Mercedes cuts in. She could imagine them gathering in a circle to get a better vantage point and hear her story.

Brittany gets comfortable in her seat, folding her legs like a teenager about to spill the latest drama. "It's been hella crazy since I got here. I went to Parliament, met the King and Queen, Santana proposed to me, I'm living with her and Kurt in her Manor-"

A barrage of shouting takes over again with the girls in the background talking simultaneously.

" _Wait the fuck up!_ " Mercedes takes over, shutting up the others. " _What the damn hell do you mean by 'Santana proposed'?! You met the King and Queen of Spain? And you're living with Santana? Like, what?!"_

" _I think I just had vertigo with all that."_ Tina quips.

 _"Oh dang."_ Sugar adds. " _This calls for tequila. And vodka. And gin."_

Brittany bites her lip, unsure whether to laugh or be worried about her friends' reactions. "Okay, okay. Let me go over it one by one, alright?" She pauses then assumes the softest innocent tone she could muster. "So, Santana and I are engaged now."

An uncomfortable silence ensues. A few whispers between the girls then hushing.

" _Is this some kind of Royal Disney kind of 1950's thing or is that how they do it there in Spain?"_ Tina speaks up.

"Not really." She says nervously.

A few seconds pass followed by incessant screaming. If they keep this up for the next few minutes, Brittany's sure that her eardrums will explode.

" _Britt, you're engaged! What? When? Where? How?"_ Tina rambles.

" _Don't lesbians start with the U-Haul first?_ " Sugar adds. A few more comments follow from the trio.

Brittany takes a deep breath. A pinch of frustration bottling up her emotions. The previous doubts on her mind, all fighting each other to reach the surface. Maybe once the novelty of it all has worn off, reality would slap her hard with what she has gone into.

" _Hey, hey, bitches! Shut up!_ " Mercedes' voice comes through the proverbial shouting, silencing the other two on the line and capturing Brittany's attention. " _We don't have a say in this. It's Brittany's life, you guys. We are her friends-"_

" _Only friends."_ Sugar cuts in with a nonchalant tone.

Brittany prepares to rebut the statement but decides against it. It's the truth, anyway.

" _Her friends._ " Mercedes says with an emphasis on the last word. " _I know we are concerned with how surprising this all seems but being the voice of reason between us, if Britt thought she was ready for this, then she is. So, instead of all our questions that I'm sure Britt can't even bother to answer herself right now, we should just support her happiness. In that case, I, for one, am extremely happy for you."_

"You guys don't think it was too fast at all?"

" _At first. But you kids are crazy for each other. There's no fast or slow, correct or wrong answer on this one. If it feels right, then it's right._ " Cedes adds.

" _Yeah, I get it now. Oprah here is right, B. Follow your heart. Follow the royal lesbian puss-"_ Sugar comments but gets cut off in protest by the other two. A smile crosses Brittany's face in amusement.

" _Alright! No need to be graphic. Let's keep this rated G_." Tina cuts in. They all chuckle. " _But seriously, Britt, they are right. After the initial shock, which we all know is warranted, you get to think about it. I agree with Dr. Phil and Dateline here. As long as you're happy then you have our full support."_

" _You are happy, right, Britt?"_ Mercedes asks.

Images of Santana fills her thoughts. Brittany smiles genuinely this time. "Very. I've never felt this happy before."

She can almost feel her friends' grin coming through the other line with their squeals.

" _In that case, congratulations, Britt!_ _We're so happy for you! I've always shipped this romance from the start."_ Tina cries out.

" _One day you're trying to pass up as straight, the next you're very gay, and now you're engaged to the Hot Princess!"_ Sugar exclaims.

" _Your wedding is going to be lit!"_ Mercedes shouts. " _You've been trying to get the girl and now you have her! It's like a fairytale."_

"Thanks, you guys! I really appreciate that." Brittany chuckles to herself, overjoyed of getting the reassurance she needed. "So, I guess there's only one thing to ask."

She purposely stalls on it, lets the dramatic silence drawl over as the women wait with bated breath.

"Will you guys be my bridesmai-" The blonde doesn't get to finish her sentence before excited screaming takes over the entire conversation.

Time flew by as Brittany caught up with her friends. She filled them in about everything that happened for the past forty-eight hours. She's never been the talkative type. Perhaps it's the adrenaline of it all. Or that she finally had something true and honest to share to her friends about her love life. But it just feels so good to finally talk to someone about this one of a kind experience.

There might not be anything left for her in New York to do but her friends' constant company is a notable absence in her life. She has never really been vocal to them about her thoughts and feelings but the thought of them being around always had a sense of comfort. Her only friends _,_ or _three sisters_ rather, are her home in New York. Always will and always will be.

They end the call shortly with promise of more conversation soon. Riding on high spirits, she goes to call her parents next. Unsurprisingly, the whole parade thing made her family local celebrities overnight in their little town. Reporters from all over the world coming to visit them with hopes of an interview but alas, to no avail.

With the promise of secrecy, she gave them a first person account of all the events they saw on television. How she met the Spanish Royal Family. How she embarrassed herself in front of His ' _Eminence'._ How Santana proposed. Even if she mostly blanked out about wedding details she herself has yet to know, it didn't bother her one bit. Like her friends, her parents had the initial hesitation about the engagement as well. But with more confidence this time around, Brittany quells their doubts about the whole thing. That she's sure about Santana. That this is what she wants. That she's really happy. All of which, to some degree, gives them peace of mind in her own little way.

* * *

Santana takes the deepest breath she could muster as she looks out the window of her limo.

She thought that being engaged finally meant that she would get to spend time with Brittany for as long and as much as she can. Or that having their romance publicly revealed to the world that there wouldn't be a need to _hide_ it. Or perhaps the biggest surprise, or to no one's surprise depending on who you ask, is being engaged meant that she would get to call the shots in her life now.

She thought so unequivocally wrong.

The three days that passed by after her proposal were filled with attending to emergency royal matters left and right. The parade incident created a wave of media explosion throughout the world. Three days in and it's still the only thing every news network in the world talks about. Some even call them the next 'William and Kate'.

What more when they discover about the engagement?

"Princess, are you alright?" Kurt's voice startles her out of her trance. She turns to face him still deep in thought.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you're okay."

"O-Oh. Yes. I'm well. A bit tired. But well. Just fine." She clears a throat and resumes looking out the window again.

Kurt eyes her with a knowing look. "So, this engagement business shenanigans aren't overwhelming you at all?"

A crease from on her forehead. She wordlessly squints her eyes at him. He only raises an eyebrow paired with a smirk. She shrugs in defeat, relenting to her assistant's manipulative ways of getting her to talk like always.

"It's not overwhelming. I-It's just that-" She pauses, thinking of that right words. "I had _expectations_."

Kurt grasps the idea on his mind as if it's a code. "Honest question. Are these 'expectations' sexually inclined?"

"W-What? No!"

"By all means, pray tell." He motions for her to take over.

"I was of the impression that I would finally be able to spend my days with Brittany rather than go on these never-ending meetings Mother and Bourbon House laid out for me about the government's interest in my personal life. All of them asking those idiotic questions when they already know the answer. If you ask me, they are just a bunch of gossips."

"And to think it took you years to open up to me. My feelings are a little hurt, you know."

"I don't know how my father kept his sanity around those- Those insufferable farts! Ugh!" She acts as if strangling someone in front of her. Kurt chortles at the sight before him.

"Your father thinks so too, we all know that. But in a few months' time, you'll be the new HBIC. The King's abdication announcement will be released next week too. It helps to be cordial for now. I wrote down a list of jerks for subsequent revenge, if it helps." He fake grins.

Santana takes a deep breath.

"But that's not why you're frustrated." Kurt fills in the unspoken words for her.

"I've barely seen Brittany since I proposed, Kurt. I miss her badly. I want nothing but to be with my _fiancée_ right now."

She glances at him with clear exasperation in her eyes. They resume their previous positions of both looking out into their respective sides' window as if they're in a tragic music video. A comfortable silence ensues. Pablo the driver's faint humming can be heard singing along to a jazz piece playing in the background.

"So…" Kurt breaks the silence. Santana turns to face her assistant again only to see him grinning devilishly.

"What?"

"These 'expectations' are sexual, after all, huh?" He playfully raises both of his eyebrows.

Santana attempts to protest but knows better than to goad Kurt in the wrong direction.

"Your silence is very telling, Your Highness. Your reaction is shining bright like a diamond." He nudges her.

"I am neither telling nor reacting, you creep."

"Uh-huh. Let's go with that." He laughs. "It's a good thing I'm working late tonight to prepare for the announcement this Friday. You and Brittany will have the whole Manor to yourselves for a few hours-"

 _"Jes_ _ú_ _s_ give me strength not to murder this man." She chants to herself. "Insufferable fart, you mean." Kurt grins widely, sharing a knowing look with the Princess.

* * *

Santana climbs the stairs to her floor in the Manor tired out of her wits.

It's been a rough day. Busier than usual. The only thing that got her through is the thought of finally having some alone time again with Brittany. With her fiancée.

"Yes, Mom. I'm doing okay here- No. I don't speak Spanish. Yet. I have a tutor." Brittany's voice echoes in the living room. The sound instantly puts a smile on the brunette's face.

Santana reaches her loft. The sight of Brittany, phone on ear, standing by the windows greets her.

She admits that to some degree, she had doubts about the engagement. She had doubts whether it was too soon to propose to Brittany. They have only known each other for a few months and dated, if you call it dating, for considerably less. She had fears that Brittany would wake up one day and tell her that it's too soon for them. Or that she's not cut out for this kind of life after all. But so far, nothing. In fact, Brittany has been working hard to catch up and properly adapt to her new surroundings.

This must be what true happiness is. The warmth of seeing the love of her life waiting for her at home or coming home to her at the end of the day. The calm that takes over knowing that this wonderful person loves her for who she is. It's incredible how one person can change her life. When she thought that she would be relegated to someone who didn't even get a hold on her own life, Brittany came at the right time. The perfect time.

Brittany turns around, a bit surprised upon seeing Santana. Like the Princess, a smile automatically takes over her features.

"Hey, Mom. I'm going to call you back tomorrow, okay? Yes, I'll tell Santana to call you again for another one of your hour long chit-chats. Don't worry about me…" Brittany says into the phone, adding a few more goodbye words that Santana couldn't hear.

"Hey." The Princess greets her as she walks over to the blonde.

"Hi. I was just talking to my parents about-" Brittany utters. Santana doesn't let her finish her sentence before pulling the girl closer for a deep kiss. One that is sure to leave Brittany breathless.

The dancer blinks owlishly upon breaking apart, finding great difficulty to come up with words. Santana takes this moment to appreciate this treasure of a human being. How did she ever get so lucky?

"Did I miss something?" Brittany asks, grinning widely.

"Me. Your devoted fiancée. Your devoted fiancée's body. I hope."

"Hmm… Let me think." The blonde grins, putting her arms around Santana's neck.

"Jerk." Santana chortles, placing another kiss on Brittany's lips. "How was your day so far?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. I learned and drank a lot of tea today at my Princess lessons. My Spanish tutor lost a few hairs and grew white ones teaching me pronouns in your language. Kurt has begun to hum Wicked tunes every now and then too. Should I run while I still can?"

Santana laughs, dragging the girl to the sofa. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

A pensive look takes over Brittany's features. "I think I am. I'm scared but I can handle it."

"You can, Britt. I will be right there with you."

"I know. That's what makes it worth it." The blonde smiles.

"You can still make a run for it though. Before you know it, Kurt's shrieking like Christine Daae."

Brittany laughs. A sound Santana has no problem hearing for the rest of her life. "No running away. I'm right where I should be, San. We'll brave the Phantom, Sweeney Todd, or whoever it may be. Together."

Kurt decides to come home at the exact moment.

"Hello, roomies. What's happening?" He greets, placing down a few folders on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, you know, we're just plotting to eliminate you before you become a murderous, neck-slashing barber who feeds the town with human pies." Santana speaks up. She scoots closer to Brittany who wholeheartedly welcomes the lack of space between them.

"I don't even want to know the context of that conversation." He responds, walking over to them. "Anyway, since it's as good as time as many with you two not having sex constantly for once-"

The couple try to protest but decides against rebutting the truth.

"I might as well do some last minute preparations to make sure you don't die at the press conference and interview tomorrow. Rehearse a few answers like the beauty queens that you are."

"Sounds like a good idea." Santana comments.

Kurt takes out index cards from his coat pocket and settles himself on the couch adjacent to them. "Alright. First question: How was your first encounter like?"

Silence ensues.

"What was your first impression of each other?"

Silence again.

"How did your first meeting go?"

By now, Brittany and Santana stare at each other, completely dumbfounded. Throwing wine on a Princess's face and having them kicked out of a bar doesn't really resonate for a good impression to the press.

" _Ay,_ we are doomed." Kurt mumbles to himself.

* * *

"Oh God, I'm going to faint. I'm going to die in front of all those people. My corpse will be live for the world to see." Brittany wheezes out to herself, barging out of their bedroom like a woman on a mission.

It's the morning of the press conference for the engagement announcement. Everyone at the Royal Palace of Madrid is scrambling for last minute preparations and addressing crises popping up every moment or so. Every well-known media outlet, international or local, are present for this event not really knowing what it is about. Curiosity and assumptions at an all-time high. From what Brittany's heard, the House of Bourbon sent out word that the Princess herself will address their concerns regarding the parade incident. Boy, are they in for a _sorpresa_.

Brittany paces back and forth. Santana rises from the couch, regarding the blonde still dressed in a bathrobe. "Britt, it will be alright. You won't die. Kurt will make sure of it."

"I'm really nervous, San." Brittany sighs, hands shaking. "I-I've never been in front of so many people that wasn't for a dancing event. I'm not someone who likes to share details about their personal life. They're going to ask me a lot of questions that I don't know the answer to. I don't even speak Spanish. I-I don't move and talk like you. I've barely progressed into my 'Princess' and Spanish lessons. It's like- It's like sending me to the wolves for dinner! Oh my God, this is a bad idea!" She rambles on, going into full blown panic.

Santana walks over to Brittany, rubbing both sides of the girl's shoulders for comfort. "Hey, look at me." She lifts the blonde's chin. "It will be alright. All questions later will be strictly conducted in English. We both prepared for this for the past couple of days. If they get too invasive, Kurt will take over. Most of their questions are pre-planned and we've already rehearsed the answers to them. All you have to be is yourself."

Brittany takes several deep breaths. She attempts to calm her nerves, tries to find a peaceful ground to balance out her emotions.

It was one thing to envision this occasion in her many daydreams in the past few days but to actually arrive at this moment? Even her ovaries are beginning to shake and shimmy out of anxiety. If it were her way, she would just perform an interpretive dance number in front of the press chronicling their romance. Hmm… Now, that's an idea.

Pablo the driver announces his presence in the loft, passing on Kurt's message that everything at the Royal Palace of Madrid is ready for their arrival. Soon, Brittany changes into a navy blue designer jumpsuit she personally chose for this occasion. A great contrast to Santana's red sheath dress. Madam Sonia and Kurt vehemently opposed this idea, opting to choose a more conservative dress that was definitely made for an old lady brunch session. She was almost swayed but Santana told her to choose whatever she wanted to wear, what she was most comfortable in. It was her first outing to the world, after all. Might as well feel like it.

The royal couple find themselves being inconspicuously ushered by a bevy of security into the Royal Palace's massive study, awaiting for their grand entrance to the press in the other room.

Brittany has seen the worst in backstage disorders in her career as a dancer. She's seen disarray of the highest order. Ranging from catfights, overpopulation, verbal altercations almost seguing into rap territory, hair-pulling episodes where she has seen someone come out half-bald, and even people fainting and were left in that state for a long period of time.

But this? This is damn close. This is mayhem.

The House of Bourbon, much like Clarence House or House of Windsor of the British Royal family but of course, Spanish, went all out for this as it seems. Countless people dashing and running like Barry Allen come swooping in from every corner of the room. There's shouting and someone barking order left and right but Brittany can't discern where it's coming from because of the several languages thrown around. It almost reminds her of the typical scene shown on movies of stockbrokers hustling around, only worse.

And then, Kurt positions himself in the middle of the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have you attention now, _por favor_?" He exclaims. Everyone stops whatever they're doing and focuses on him. "The Princess and Miss Pierce have arrived. We will be starting the press conference in two minutes. Everyone, take to your places!"

Brittany blinks, swallowing the lump in her throat. Kurt approaches them, a big grin on his face.

"You seem well put together, Hummel." Santana comments, smirking.

"Are you kidding me? I'm falling apart at the seams. My intestines are shaking. My smile is permanently painful." He answers, motioning to his face.

Santana laughs. Brittany glances at the brunette, wondering if she's even nervous at all.

An announcement can be heard from the other room. An assistant approaches Kurt and whispers something in his ear which he nods at.

"Alright then. I'll see you at the other side. Keep the ring visible. Don't faint. Don't die." Kurt reminds them one last time before walking away.

Brittany takes a few deep breaths just as Santana takes her hand, facing her and flashing a smile.

"Ready, Britt?"

Brittany gathers all the confidence in the world. She tries to envision this whole thing as another performance for a crowd, much like an actor about to put on a show. She nods frantically at Santana, feeling better at the distracting thought. The Princess holds out her arm, motioning for Brittany to anchor hers in them. The diamond ring out in the open for everyone to admire.

" _Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Asturias. Miss Brittany Pierce."_ Someone announces when the doors open.

"Oh. Kurt forgot to tell you," Santana mutters as they begin to walk. "you will lose your sense of sight for a minute or two because of the blinding lights. Just smile and pretend to look ahead."

"Wha-" She tries to speak but immediately gets cut off by the screaming photographers as soon as they enter.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

Flashing lights go off everywhere, illuminating the entire room. Booming voices trying to up one another. _"Miss Pierce!", "Santana!", "Princess!", "Brittany!"_ are just the many things she thinks they're shouting.

To say that Brittany becomes blind the second they take their place in the front of the press is an utter understatement. All she can see is white for the first few seconds. It's as if her eyeballs are under attack by countless flashes of cameras all over the room. If she didn't know any better, it's God calling out for her to come into the light. Just when her eyes start to adjust, another frenzy in the form of fireworks of white flash come over and over again.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

"Smile and breathe." Santana whispers. The words takes Brittany off of her trance. She takes the brunette's advice, not realizing she'd been holding her breath for the past minute.

The flashing lights goes on for what must have been forever for Brittany. It wasn't until Kurt exclaims something over the commotion that some of them begin to take it easy. She glances at Santana, or by her sight, a blob of flashing light, who seems to be relaxed and putting on a smile that is mostly reserved for the public.

"Again, this press conference is strictly to be held in English. Otherwise, questions will not be addressed. Only those whose hands are raised will be called. One question at a time, two questions maximum per person. Please state which company you work for and your name." Kurt's voice echoes. Brittany searches for him in the room and sees the secretary standing in front of a mic by the sidelines. "We will now start with the questions."

Numerous hands shoot up in the air. Kurt points to a reporter in the front row.

"Your Royal Highness, Miss Pierce, Kate Volk from CNN." The woman speaks into the microphone nearby, holding a flip notebook on her hand. Santana smiles and focuses on the reporter. Brittany mirrors the brunette, her smile coming off a bit constipated.

"These past few days have been a whirlwind for the Spanish Royal family. Given that this press conference was announced with no particular subject and the present situation in front of us, can you please tell us what is the true nature of your relationship with Miss Pierce?"

Santana sighs in a contented way. She grins widely and places a hand on top of Brittany's arm, flaunting the ring in the latter's hand.

"Brittany Pierce and I are engaged. She is my fiancée."

 _Click! Click! Click!_

Once again, overwhelming flashing lights brighten up the room. All of them trying their best to get a good picture of the ring and the royal couple. But instead of being blinded by the lights, Brittany turns her head to look at Santana who's already looking at her. Both of them smiling so wide it's as if their jaws are about to give in.

"Miss Pierce," The reporter addresses her this time. A surge of nervousness runs through her. "who proposed to whom and if may ask, how?"

Everyone was looking at her now. An imaginary spotlight shining upon her.

"I-It was Santana." She utters, shy and just a tad overwhelmed.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

She briefly glances at Santana who gives her an encouraging smile. She continues. "It was after the parade. We were in the Palace grounds by the lake. It was just the two of us. The sun was setting and the garden had all these beautiful flowers. And then, she proposed. It was very private and romantic." Brittany pauses, smiling at the memory and glancing at Santana again. So far, so good. She hasn't died yet.

Kate Volk thanks them and withdraws from her spot. Soon, a gentleman walks toward it after Kurt calls him.

"Your Royal Highness, Miss Pierce. Hector Chavez of _El Mundo_." He speaks with a heavy Spanish accent. "Princess," He addresses the brunette. "how did you meet each other?"

"We met in New York." Santana responds, not missing a beat. "When I was a student in university there, Brittany and I had classes together. We also worked together at the same college bar named Ken's."

The reporters scribble away on their notepads, some of them speaking into recorders. As it seems, the Princess working at a local college bar came as a surprise for them.

"How long have you been together?"

It's one of Brittany's dreaded questions. She knows that they've only known each other a little over three months. That's not much compared to others. Unacceptable for marriage standards to some, even. But to Santana and her, it feels like a long time with everything they've been through together so far.

"Not long, Mr. Chavez." Santana answers, sporting a coy smile.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

Hector Chavez moves away from the microphone. A blonde woman takes his place.

"Serena Masters, BBC, Your Royal Highness." The woman says into the microphone with a British accent, holding out her phone as a recorder. From the looks of it, she looks like a veteran in the business. Someone who's been doing this for a long time.

"My question is for Miss Pierce." The reporter addresses her with a smile. Brittany nods, returning the gesture. The confidence settling in her system as this goes.

"Miss Pierce, could you tell us a little bit more about yourself?"

Brittany blinks. It takes her aback seeing that she never really thought someone would ask that. With all the news circling of their romance, they still want to ask about her? She thought they knew everything already. They even had her prom picture shown on the news this morning!

"W-Well, I'm Brittany Susan Pierce. I just turned twenty-four. I'm a jazz and ballet dancer from New York. A-And uh…" She stutters, freezing up. "A-And I'm really happy to be here." She looks around the room of poker faces. " _Really_." She adds with emphasis as if convincing someone.

Almost everyone is smiling. Some of them even chuckle. In her mind, Brittany doesn't get much of it. Did she say something funny?

"I must say that your attire is a breath of fresh air. So fashionable and chic. What are you wearing?"

Brittany seizes up again. She forgot the designer's name. Issa something. Or was it Momo? Were the shoes Gucci or Prada? Dammit. She is so dead. She can practically feel Kurt's horrified stare burning a hole in her face.

"I-I… Uh-" She looks down on her outfit. A stylish navy blue jumpsuit that highlights her curves and tall frame. She looks up at the reporter still eagerly waiting. "It's a jumpsuit, Ma'am. E-Er… Ma'am Reporter."

The room erupts in a light laughter. She witnesses a photographer swallow his gum, or rather choke, when she answered. Her forehead creases for a split-second, wondering why they're all laughing at her. Perhaps they're making fun of her being a dumdum in front of them.

"They love you." Santana whispers, leaning slightly into her. "They think you're adorable, Britt."

"Guillermo Cruz, _Marca_." A reporter starts. "Miss Pierce, have you met the Royal family? How did they take to this engagement?"

The memories of the Queen's cold demeanor comes back to Brittany. Santana's Mother is made of something else – _stone –_ and it eats her up that she cannot do anything about it. Since she arrived here, she has yet to interact with the Queen again. Perhaps going out of her way not to see Brittany in the Palace. Nevertheless, she tosses the heavy feelings aside for now and recites the rehearsed answer for this particular question.

"I have." She says. "They have been nothing but wonderful and welcoming to me. We are lucky to have such a supportive environment." The words taste just a little bit off in her mouth.

"How about your own family? Has the Princess met them?"

"Yes, she has." She smiles this time, glancing at Santana. "I can safely say that my family is more fond of her than they are of me."

Another laughter erupts. Santana chuckles herself then calls out from the crowd this time.

"Vivian Morris, New York Times." She speaks. "My question is for Miss Pierce."

"I don't think I'm needed here at all." Santana jests, chuckling. The room joins in her laughter. A look of pride and affection in her eyes as she looks at Brittany.

"Miss Pierce, when is the wedding?"

"We haven't decided on a date yet but we are eyeing a spring wedding." She utters. From the corner of her eye, Kurt is subtly giving her a thumbs up.

"And how are you settling in Spain?"

"It's well, so far. Santana has been a great tutor when it comes to the comings and goings, also the etiquette. I'm also focusing in becoming fluent in Spanish. So, it's coming up quite well."

"Jenna Robson, The Sydney Morning Herald. What made you decide to go after the Princess at the parade, Miss Pierce?"

"O-Oh. I'm not entirely sure. One moment I was on my way to _Palacio de la Zarzuela,_ then the next, I'm in the middle of the parade shouting at the top of my lungs to get Santana's attention. I was at the right place at the right time. A matter of good accidents."

"What were your thoughts when Her Royal Highness plucked you from the crowd?"

"Relieved. More than anything, to be honest. People were beginning to think I'm insane." Brittany laughs. The crowd joins in, utterly charmed by the blonde.

"Gabriel Montes, _El Pais_." A young man, a teenager by the looks of him, takes over, a bit insecure at that. "Forgive me, Your Royal Highness, my English _not good to speak._ "

Santana nods, producing an encouraging smile. "You have my permission to address your questions in Spanish as long as they are only directed at me, Mr. Montes."

The reporter's face lights up, nodding frantically. Brittany watches, or rather, listens to the scene unfold before her. Gabriel Montes voices his first question confidently in Spanish. As far as Brittany's Spanish lessons have taken her, she still understood jack about it.

"Britt," Santana turns to her when the reporter finished talking. "he's asking about our honeymoon plans."

"Oh." Brittany's eyebrows raise. "We haven't discussed that yet."

Santana smiles then turns back to the reporter. "To answer your first question, Mr. Montes. We have yet to decide where our honeymoon will be. Perhaps we'll keep all of you wanting more on that matter?" She adds, smirking much to the crowd's amusement.

Gabriel Montes nods then continues with his second question. Brittany listens in again. She thought that Santana translating it for her was a cute gesture. It certainly felt that she was part of the conversation rather than being brushed aside. That one warrants a kiss for the brunette as a prize, for sure. Kisses not limited on the lips. Could be all over the body. Might be exclusively restricted in between Santana's legs. Spanning for long periods of-

"You totally spaced out, didn't you?" Santana whispers with a hint of amusement.

Brittany blinks rapidly, trying to appear calm and collected. Daydreaming of a naked Santana should not be in the cards right now. "W-What?"

"He asked me if you immediately said yes when I asked you to marry me."

She only nods, smiling at the nervous young reporter waiting for an answer.

"Brittany waited for a few seconds before she told me 'yes'. It was a very short time and looking back on it, she did answer immediately. But it felt like a lifetime for me as I waited for her answer, verging on losing my mind."

They all chuckle.

"George Chan, Wall Street Journal." A reporter begins. "Your Royal Highness, you say that you haven't been together for that long. Is it not too soon to get married?"

Brittany nervously peers at Santana. It's one of the red flag questions on Kurt's list. A warning not to have their feathers ruffled by such inquiry.

"Not at all, Mr. Chan. In fact, it could not have been a more perfect time." Santana smiles.

"How did you keep the relationship a secret, Miss Pierce?"

"Santana and I are both private when it comes to personal matters. We haven't really told anyone about it until it was too late. We also try our best to swerve away from attention."

"Cara Vaughn, Time Magazine." A young woman in glasses steps in. "Your Royal Highness, we are all curious about the ring. Where is it bought from?"

"It was passed down by my grandmother to my father. My father gave it to me when I told him I was going to marry Brittany."

Brittany tries not to appear too surprised. She didn't know that part but nevertheless quite honored to wear such a priceless artifact.

"For my last question, how and when did you know Miss Pierce was the one?"

 _Click! Click! Click!_

The brunette takes a few seconds to answer. Brittany peers at the brunette who looks to be deep in thought.

"It wasn't just one thing or instance, Miss Vaughn." Santana stares back at Brittany with a glimmer in her eye. "How lovely and fantastic of a person she is… it's simply beyond words. I knew when I looked at her and thought that it's a pity for the people who will never have the chance to have her in their life. I knew she's the one after realizing that I did not want to spend another day without her in my life. She's one in a billion."

 _Click! Click! Click!_

Everything becomes a mere afterthought. No more getting distracted by the blinding light, the shouting of the press. On the outside, one can say that they've never seen such a perfect couple. Two people so in love that you can feel the passion just by looking at them staring at each other like priceless gems.

Kurt ends the press conference, considering himself satisfied to have answered the general questions. Brittany and Santana thank everyone amidst they're clamoring for more. They're ushered backstage and into the limo with Kurt, this time heading to a more intimate, sit down, one-on-one interview with basically the same questions back at _Palacio de la Zarzuela._ Or as Brittany should begin to say, _their_ home. Her home.

She relaxes again the car seat. She lets herself indulge in a little PDA by holding Santana's hand and resting her head on the brunette's shoulder, leaving no space between them. She relaxes before another whirlwind of emotions, once again conforming to rules that should be followed to the letter. As the sights of Madrid pass by the windows, she takes a deep breath.

This is now her life. Her home. She wouldn't have it any other way. She just has to get used to it.

* * *

 **Let me know what you guys think. Drop a review for me, will ya?**


	18. Chapter 18

**A little treat to start your week right ;)**

* * *

"You say, ' _Hola, Brittany, que tal? Que haces?_ '"

A crease forms on the blonde's forehead. "What does that mean?"

"It means 'Hello, Brittany, how are you? What are you doing?'"

"Losing my goddamn mind, for sure."

Santana laughs. She stares at the blonde sitting up beside her in bed, cute in all her confused glory.

Much how she expected to happen, the whole world is just completely and utterly in love with Brittany Pierce. _Her_ Brittany. She can't blame them. Once you fall under her fiancée's spell much like she has, there's no recovering from it. As if anyone would ever want to anyway. That's always been the magnetic effect of Brittany on people.

The media storm has died down a bit after the press conference a few days ago and she couldn't be more thankful for the short peace. At least she got to spend some quality time with Brittany without roving eyes watching their every move. A little calm before the storm, as it seems. The world waiting for the next, big thing from them.

"Can you spell that out for me, babe?" Brittany asks, pen on her personal Spanish lessons notebook ready to go.

Santana does so, taking a peek at how serious the girl is about her task. She puts her arm around the blonde's waist and places a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Another one would be ' _Buen provecho_!'" The Princess spells it out. "It means 'Enjoy your meal!'."

Brittany nods as she writes, smirking as her thoughts travel to a _meal_ she certainly enjoyed not too long ago. One which involved the brunette writhing and moaning in pleasure. Santana catches on it, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Uh-huh. I thought that the deal was to learn at least three new sentences before going at it again."

"I can't help it, San. You've turned me into a pervert."

Santana moves closer to the blonde, an unmistakable expression on her face that Brittany knows all too well now.

"Well, here's one for you: ' _Te amo mucho, mi vida._ '"

The dancer stares at her, appearing to rack her brain for the meaning. "I think I've heard of that."

"It means 'I love you so much, my love'." She leans in for a kiss, smiling into it. "And I do."

The blush on Brittany's face creeps onto the back of her ears. And that smile. _Dios mio,_ that smile. Santana will never get enough of it knowing that it's reserved only for her.

" _Te amo mucho tambi_ _é_ _n,_ San _."_ Brittany whispers, eyes never leaving their hold on her. "Did I say that right?"

The brunette nods, impressed. "Yes! It was perfect, actually. You're a quick learner."

"What can I say? I'm the best."

"It was really hot too. You speaking in Spanish." She smirks, resuming her previous mission of dropping kisses on Brittany's shoulder all the way to her neck in a slow, agonizing manner.

Knocking on the door interrupts their moment. Santana lets out an exasperated sigh. "Go away!" She shouts.

"You need other people to survive!" Kurt's muffled voice answers. "I'm not leaving. In fact, I'm going to start singing until you let me in. _Do you want to build a snowman? Do you want to build a snowman…_ "

Brittany laughs in amusement, resigning to putting on clothes thrown on the floor last night to cover herself, handing Santana, much to the girl's ire, hers as well.

"Fine! Come in!" Santana exclaims just as she finishes putting on a shirt.

Kurt enters the room, a hand covering his eyes and holding a magazine with the other. "Are you both decent?"

"If I say we are not, will you leave Brittany and I in peace?"

"Ooh, scandalous. But nope, won't work on me. I'm as gay as a rainbow." He grins mockingly, giving them a once over. "Ah. Your Royal Highness, Miss Pierce. Is it not so nice to see another human being after what must have been forever in here?"

"It's been barely twelve hours, Kurt. Leave us alone." Santana huffs, pouting.

"Hey, Kurt." Brittany chuckles. "Sorry. She gets grumpy when she's hungry."

"To think you've both been here for a while and she's still working up an appetite."

"Don't let boundaries stop you now, Kurt." Santana remarks sarcastically while Brittany holds back on grinning. "And what brings this fantastic interruption so early in the morning?"

"I come bearing news! Quite literally and figuratively."

Kurt holds up the famous magazine for display. On the cover is Santana and Brittany's official engagement photo taken the day after their engagement announcement. On the rare occasion of allowed PDA, the image depicts of them standing and facing each other while intimately embracing in the Palace gardens. Santana has her arms around the blonde's torso. Brittany's right arm is around the Princess' neck while her left hand is resting on the brunette's collar bone with the ring visible. Instead of looking straight into the camera, their eyes are glued into the other's all while sporting the most genuine lovestruck smiles possible.

Santana cannot help but grin. They have done lots of poses for the magazine in the same vein but the cover photo is one of spontaneity. She remembers that they've been posing for the photographer for quite a while then. The cold breeze making the embrace necessary for warmth. The whole stress of the concurrent events finally taking a toll on their energy.

In the midst of all the insanity in the background, Brittany looked at her. It wasn't a passing glance. Nor a cry for help. Brittany looked at her with so much affection in her eyes. One that asked her if she was alright, if she was holding up quite well. It told her that throughout all the fatigue, lack of sleep, and plain madness, it didn't matter at all because she's with Santana. It took everything the brunette had in her not to tear up out of joy knowing this is the person she will be spending the rest of her life with.

"Cheeky, isn't it?" Kurt grins, handing Brittany the magazine.

The couple leaves through the publication, arriving at their spread. A photo of them posing on the small bridge by the Palace gardens is featured. This time both women embracing and holding hands, facing the small lake as the sun sets.

"Aww, look at us!" Brittany points to the aforementioned photo.

"I know, right?" Kurt interjects. "And before we go on to other matters, Britt," He pauses for dramatic effect. "Everyone _loved_ the jumpsuit! I mean, girl, it is sold out around the world. With hundreds of thousands of women on wait lists. And I know that, because I tried to order one."

"Why would you order one-"

Kurt cuts Santana off dismissively. "That was a gamble but it really paid off! Everyone's used to royals wearing those semi-boring classic dresses, no offense, Santana. And it really was a breath of fresh air. So majestic!"

"Calm your fallopian tubes, Hummel." The Princess smirks.

Brittany grins. "Thanks, Kurt. I was aiming for comfort but I'll take the compliment any day."

"Oh, honey. It's more than that. The whole world is in love with you! You charmed their pants off, like I said you would. Sure, we'll have to smooth out interactions but that's okay since you're new to this. You are all they could talk about! My God, I have never been this excited!"

"We can see that." The blonde adds, laughing.

"Make fun of me all you want. I'm just happy everyone is finally happy and no one died during Britt's first public appearance. Everyone loved her. Everyone loved you together. Everyone loved your outfits." He rambles on.

Santana senses a slight apprehension in the split second that Kurt pauses. "I feel as if you're hiding something behind this hullabaloo of yours."

Kurt's face falls. "W-Well, there is one person who thinks you should keep the fashion risks to a minimum. You know, conform to the usual outfit choices."

And with that, the joyous moment is cut. Santana's smile falters as is Brittany's face when she glances at her. She won't pretend she knows how it feels like for Brittany. To be shunned by her Mother right in front of their faces. To be outright disliked without second thoughts. It's unfair. Outrageous, even..

"This is just ridiculous! Perhaps I should-" Santana starts, about to get up from bed when the blonde holds her back.

"N-No. No, San. Your Mother is right. We have to follow the rules. It's my fault."

"But you're new to this, Britt. It's been barely a week. Surely some slack should be given to you."

"I know, babe. I know." Brittany gives out a small but pained smile. "But she's the Queen. We didn't start on the right foot. I can't go out of my way tearing down my chance of making good with her on the other. Let's just-" Brittany bites her lip, looking up to meet Kurt's sympathetic gaze at her. "Please tell Her Majesty I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Kurt nods slightly. Santana shakes her head in disbelief. All these worthless rules and protocols. How can things change or improve when they do everything they can for it to stay the same?

"Well then," Kurt exclaims with a chirpy tone, his attempt of switching to a lighter mood. He grabs his phone from his coat pocket. "aside from ruining your morning, it's time to play a little game called: 'What's Your Schedule Today?'"

Santana groans. Brittany finally smiles again.

"So, let's start with Princess Grumpy first. It's a light load today since you have work." He cheekily grins. "At lunch, you just have a meeting with the Governor of Asturias and his wife about the gala for disabled veterans. That's going to run for half an hour at most. Remember, the Governor's left eye is the good eye."

"I really hate this game, Kurt." Santana huffs, getting out of bed.

"I'll make it fun next time, I promise." Kurt continues, "After dinner, you are to be briefed about your visit to England in two weeks. You accepted the Queen's invitation, remember? William, Kate, Harry, and Meghan will be standing in her place for that. Get ready for a media whirlwind."

"Is it going to be that bad?" Brittany chimes in.

"The worst. Especially since I hear talks that you're coming with Santana." Kurt adds, not looking up from his phone.

"Hold on. What?" Santana's forehead creases. She peers at her fiancée who looks shocked out of her wits.

"It's just a rumor, Princess. I haven't talked to Her Majesty's office about this but there's a suggestion that Brittany should come too as her first overseas trip." He says. "It's irregular for someone who's not an official part of the royal family but everyone thinks it's a chance to strengthen the royal ties between Spain and England. Imagine the Spice Girls and Destiny's Child having a reunion at the same time. That's how much people will go crazy over this."

"W-What?" Brittany swallows the lump in her throat.

Santana understands the peril of it. Up until the media storm of outing her to the public and their engagement, the Spanish royal family has been relatively low-key in terms of paparazzi interest. Unlike the British royal family, they have enjoyed a modest public life. Only known to that within the country and Europe. It's as if comparing the popularity and media interest in Brad Pitt to that of pre-Wonder Woman Gal Gadot.

And with one happening after another, everything changes. They have now become, in terms of comparison in popularity, _the_ Wonder Woman Gal Gadot. Suddenly, everyone has become interested in them, wanting to know every single little detail about their lives. Suddenly, Spain is back on the map. Suddenly, everyone knows their names and can't help but proclaim them as the new 'Will and Kate'.

It's a novel way of looking at it. To say the least, it's a taboo for a royal to be _gay_ or for them to say that they are. What more of breaking the mold by announcing a surprise engagement between two women, an American commoner and the soon-to-be Queen of a powerful country?

"Is she ready for that, Kurt? If it were true, I mean. The four of them alone create quite a frenzy. Adding us into the equation, well, the media might break down, so to speak." Santana whispers, looking at the pasty white face of the blonde rendered immobile.

Kurt only looks at the Princess with a solemn expression. "We'll find out soon enough." Santana takes a deep breath, nodding to herself.

"So," He casually drops in. "Brittany's schedule is the usual spree. Princess lessons. Spanish lessons. Madam Sonia's coming over later for fitting again. You know, the day to day thing. Oh! We also have to prep you for the parade event on Friday. It's your first public appearance with the whole family, yay!"

"I-I'm sorry?" Brittany finds herself taken aback yet again.

"It's for this new hospital built for veterans, senior citizens, and children. We briefly discussed it yesterday. Just follow protocol and you'll be fine. You don't even have to speak. Not a big deal." He waves a hand in disregard much to Brittany's horror.

"We need to work on your idea of what a 'big deal' is, Kurt." The blonde retorts.

"So we shall. But for now, breakfast downstairs, anyone?" He grins. "Santana needs to get to work at the museum. There's an upcoming Miro exhibit and they need manpower to prepare. While you, Britt, need to get to Princess lessons."

"I wish I had a secretary back when I was working two jobs to make rent. You'd come in handy, Kurt." Brittany jests.

"He really won't. He will be the bane of your existence." Santana rolls her eyes. "When he visits me at work, all he does is sit around and appraise the tourists he deems 'hot' and 'not'. He even eats the take away food he sometimes buys for me from the 'kindness of his heart'."

Kurt cuts in, ushering the couple towards the doors. "Enough chit-chat! You are the livelihood of our family, Santana. We depend on you making five euros an hour, twice a week, by carrying huge paintings around and being a museum tour guide. We need you to hustle! _Andale!_ Chop chop!"

* * *

To say that Brittany has been having difficulty adjusting is quite the understatement.

So far in her stay, she's accepted the fact that it will take her some time to adapt to her surroundings. That it will take some effort to understand customs and the culture. Or plain understanding the language of the people.

Back in New York, their Bushwick apartment is a sight to behold. In the sense that, you would have to see it to believe that two young women live in what used to be a drug den. Their ceilings have leaks on some of the corners. Their neighbor is fond of blasting 'Happy Days' on television at exactly two in the morning until six. Shouting in several languages sometimes persist. You'd also have to walk extra fast in the streets of Bushwick if you'd want to live and still have the clothes on your back.

The streets of Manhattan aren't that different. Nor are the people who could not care less about you with them yelling expletives straight to your face. There's incessant noise, deliberate disrespect of personal space, and utter chaos wherever you may be. The smell of pee, prevalence of pigeons, and rodents having no shame of showing their faces in broad daylight are a recurring thing as well. It's something Brittany has lived with for the past three years and she's used to it.

Then came Spain.

Brittany has never heard such quiet surroundings her entire life. There's no screaming, no Happy Days blaring through the walls, not even cursing. She fears at first that she's gone deaf. But it really is like that here compared to New York. Quiet. It even smells like flowers and vanilla all the time. Everyone puts her on a pedestal for some reason. Every room she's gone into so far is blaring soft classical music in the background.

The Palace grounds, for all intents and purposes, is such a serene place. She looks out the window every now and then to see pristine views of the entire place. All that's missing is a Disney song in the background and you'd never mistake it as a paradise.

The one thing she has yet to grasp though is the time difference. She's not sure if it's insomnia but there have been nights when sleep evades her completely. She lies awake looking at the picturesque ceiling of their bedroom with paintings of the stars and clouds. Sometimes she stares at Santana sleeping peacefully until slumber gets to her too. Most nights, it only leaves her tired and fatigued into the next day.

She's tried counting sheep, goats, or even fat dogs but nothing so far. She's drank milk but it only makes her hungry. There's always the sex which relieves all the stress from her body and leaves her _really_ satisfied and spent. The fact that they're getting better at it too helps - which was something she didn't know was possible for already mind-blowing sex. It's worked most nights but sometimes, it's not enough to knock her out. She can only take so much out of Santana, sexually speaking, after their everyday busy duties only to wake up early the following day to go about the same routine again. She blames her endurance and stamina due to rigorous dancing training for this bouncing energy in her.

Lately, she's resorted to getting up from bed in the middle of the night. Carefully slipping out of the cuddling to camp out in the living room where she studies Spanish in her own time or watches re-runs of telenovelas, pretending to understand them and the Spanish subtitles but nevertheless, taking note of the words that pique her curiosity and translating them on her own later.

Tonight, or rather _very early_ morning, her usual telenovela has yet to come on. Instead, she's greeted by a re-run of her engagement sit-down interview with Santana. Both of them sat in a cream couch, sitting side by side with a small space between them as they face the interviewer remaining in the background. It brings a smile to her face. This is the first time she's seen it, actually. Preferring to steer away from the news as much as possible lately.

Unlike their engagement announcement to the press, this interview is done on more intimate and detailed terms of their romance and the proposal. It spanned just under fifteen minutes but felt like forever. She tunes in on the television. The reporter in the background asks them about how they met and Santana answers for the both of them with the same one she gave to the press. However, the reporter presses on for more, in the vein of 'How did you first _actually_ meet each other?'.

Brittany grins all dopey at the memory of this. That exact second, a dead air comes between Santana and her staring into the vast oblivion, knowing the real answer to that question. Then, they stare at each other and they just lose it. Laughter fills the air as if they are the only ones around. Santana gives her a meaningful smile, the unspoken words of 'Should we tell?'.

And they did, much to everyone's amusement. It pretty much sends Brittany laughing like a maniac in the middle of the night while trying to keep it down. Instead of their dreaded reactions of it being taken in bad taste or as disrespect, they are met with mirth beyond belief. They love how brazen she is to do such a thing, regardless if she didn't know who Santana was.

The rest of the interview followed with most of the same questions during the press conference. There were a few ones that compared them to the British Royal family, and others like asking Santana about the King's condition and how it affects her standing to the throne. They gave the same answers as well, some more detailed than others. Santana was cordial but professional, a feat Brittany finds attractive on the brunette.

"Britt?" A manly voice startles Brittany in her spot on the couch. She looks behind her to see Kurt, sleepy and in pajamas and a night gown, climbing the stairs to their loft.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was the TV too loud? Did I wake you?" She puts the screen on mute just as the interview comes to an end and the news flash on to other international matters.

"No, not at all. I got up to drink some milk when I heard chattering." He responds, eyes glancing on the TV as he approaches the couch. "Why are you still up? It's two in the morning."

Brittany sighs. "I can't sleep. My body's still adjusting to the time difference, I think."

Kurt nods, settling beside her. "What are you watching?"

"Nothing, really. Just surfing the channels. I was hoping to catch this soap opera but I don't know the exact schedule it usually comes on. What I'm sure is it's around this hour and this is the channel with the star rainbow logo on the upper right."

"You watch telenovelas?"

"I do now." Brittany chuckles. She grabs her nearby trusty notebook for Spanish lessons. "There's Spanish subtitles when it comes on and I copy some of it and translate them later. I don't understand jack about what's happening but I try to keep up with them. It helps me with the Spanish."

Kurt looks at her as if she said something out of this world. "That's genius, Britt!"

Brittany blushes. "Thanks. It's by accident, really. I was bored one time and turned on the TV when the show came on. It's been pretty hardcore lately, to be honest. Lots of slapping and killing and cheating and twists." She pauses, shaking her head. "Telenovelas are not for the faint-hearted, Kurt."

"Hell yes, girl." He chuckles. "What's the name of the soap you're waiting for?"

"I'm not sure but from what I've learned," She looks down on her notebook. "it directly translates to 'The Pleasure of Objects With You'. Wait- That translation's not right, is it? Coz it sounds like porn. And I'm not watching porn, let's get that right."

Kurt chortles. He says, "Was it the one with the hot guy marrying this girl but it turns out it was her twin? The father of said guy shot his wife in the head and through some medical miracle words cannot explain, the bitch lived? Oh, and also did it have that gay couple who were both kidnapped and thrown into a life-threatening scenario?"

Brittany's eyes widen, nodding frantically. "Yes! That's the one!"

"That's all of them, Britt. That's what happens in _literally_ every soap opera ever."

Her shoulder sinks but she laughs nonetheless. "Spoilers much?" She relaxes against the couch. "How long did it take you to be fluent in it?"

"A year or more, I think." He answers. Brittany's face falters. She doesn't have that much time. If there was a genie who granted wishes in exchange for her soul, being fluent in Spanish in an instant would be at the very top of her list. Kurt catches up to her dilemma, quickly following up with: "But that's because my Spanish tutor was an old woman as ancient as the Pope himself. She was kind of a bitch too, so we didn't really get along. And- And there was no pressure for me to learn quickly because Santana was already fluent in English and she'd sometimes act as my translator."

"But I thought you didn't understand each other at first?"

"Yes. But the language barrier was the least of our worries. We bickered more about the difference in our personalities rather than not understanding each other's words." Kurt says. "She's a great tutor. Quite mean but I doubt she'd be like that to you."

"She is a great teacher. She's been teaching me a few words here and there. Sometimes when she's not too tired, she'd join me here and tutor me."

Kurt nods. They fall into a comfortable silence, watching the television absent-mindedly. That is until the news program comes to an end. A familiar opening credits of a soap opera captures Brittany's attention. She sits up, much to Kurt's curiosity, and grabs the remote to unmute it. The song, partnered with images of a ridiculously good-looking couple bathed in baby oil while emoting their hearts out in a balcony _a la_ Romeo and Juliet, jogs Brittany's memory. There's Spanish subtitles of the song too in the lower part of the screen. This is the soap she's waiting for!

"Kurt, this is it!" She points, all excited. "We found it!"

"Ha, congratulations!" Kurt cheers. He gets up from the couch and walks away, descending the stairs until out of sight. A slight surge of disappointment courses through Brittany. She becomes aware that she's alone again, the awareness hits her when the only sound in the loft is coming from the television. But still, she was thankful for the brief time she spent with Kurt on a personal level. She focuses on the television now as she opens her notebook. She's about to begin taking down notes when the sound of footsteps coming closer distract her again.

She turns to see Kurt carrying a huge bowl of popcorn in one hand and two cans of diet coke with the other.

"Santana's brand of popcorn in her pantry sucks. Mine is the bomb. I add more butter too." He grins widely, settling beside her on the couch and handing her a can.

Her forehead furrows. "Don't you have to rest since you have an early start later?"

"Meh. I'm already up." He shrugs, sharing with her the bowl of popcorn. "Santana may be a weakling but I am not. There's nothing that a Cuban coffee couldn't fix and the sight of Pablo's muscles, when he works out with us later, wouldn't awaken in me."

Brittany laughs out loud. "Pablo the handsome driver who barely speaks? Are you two dating or something?"

"No!" His cheeks turn a shade of red. "It's just a schoolgirl crush. I don't think he's even gay."

"And does he really not speak that much? The brooding type?"

"Nah. He just likes being in the background most of the time. Professional and all that. It works quite well seeing that Santana is the _actual_ anti-social, brooding type." He chuckles. "He's been with us for almost three years now. He was in the army when Santana had her training, I think."

"Really? I mean, he looks like a ramp model. What happened?"

"Yes. True _dat_. I think he did model, for real, though. He was even in several soap operas too." He waves a hand in disregard. "Anyway, he was heavily injured in Afghanistan and was never allowed back. Took a few years to recover. But he's now Santana's driver slash bodyguard slash sometimes trainer. He's a happy chap, really. He's just not a man of many words especially on the job."

Brittany nods, a sense of relaxation hits her for the first time in a long while.

"So, this show of yours, what do you know so far?" Kurt points to the screen as he shoves a mouthful of popcorn in his mouth.

"Well," She looks down on her notes warily. "if I got it right, the lead guy just found out that the girl he's going to marry is his half-sister from his father's young womanizing days. Which is disgusting. The lead girl, who is the lead guy's mom's maid and actually a long lost heir to a family fortune, is in prison because she was framed by the lead guy's childhood best friend, who's in love with him, for stealing a ring but the real culprit was the family's dog named Chichi who ate it. There's something about snakes and cowboys and lots of weird face close ups, if that makes sense."

Kurt blinks. "Oh, girl, this is good stuff!" He gets comfortable on the couch, sitting back with his legs crossed then glances at the blonde. "I like this. I don't think we've ever bonded since you got here."

Brittany only grins, her smile enough to get the affection across. She mirrors Kurt's position and sits back. When the actual show starts, she listens intently and copies a few sentences here and there. Sometimes Kurt points out a few things for her that aids her in understanding the dialogue and why everyone is always slapping each other. True enough, Kurt enjoys the hell out of the telenovela and she has a slight feeling that this wouldn't be the last time they would be doing this together.

"By the way, the soap's name is 'Secrets and Desires'. I don't know where you got that 'Pleasure' title but in true Mercedes spirit, ' _y'all_ need some Jesus in _ya_ life'." Kurt says, laughing along with her as they binge on the show some more.

* * *

Santana takes a deep breath as she walks along the corridors of the Palace Mansion.

Up until an hour ago, she was preparing to indulge in some movie time with Kurt and Brittany over Sangrias and Tapas back at the Manor to take the edge off at the end of the day. But it just had to be ruined by one of her Mother's secretaries' house call, summoning her for a talk with her parents.

She knocks thrice on the Study's huge doors and enters the room to see her parents sitting on the couch in their most relaxed state, laughing over a story before she makes her presence known. She misses that sometimes. Lately, it's as if all that's been going on in this household are disagreements and rows over unimportant things.

She runs her eyes over their features. The King has been recovering well. He's lost a bit of weight but his appetite and energy has begun to come back. He has even started to walk a few meters around the Palace grounds again. It's a long journey to recovery but he is well on his way as long as he concentrates on his health. The Queen, of course, is still ethereal as ever, all the stress not really inflicting much of a damage. In the brief time that has passed since her father has taken a backseat, her Mother took over most of the brunt as regards political and influential matters. A partnership, indeed.

It may not seem so but not long ago they could have rivaled those of a real celebrity couple with their looks. And if she may say so, they have aged amiably. The romance never faltered too, that one is obvious.

"Ah, _Mija_." Her Father greets her with a wide grin. Her Mother, not as warm, flashes her a split-second smile.

"You called for me?" She utters, a bit hesitant before being asked to sit adjacent to them.

"Yes. How have you been, _Santanita_?"

"I-I'm well, _Papi_. How are you?"

"Slowly regaining my strength back. I attempted gardening again this morning with Diego before his school. It lifted my spirits, as you can see. Perhaps I'll try again tomorrow." He grins widely. Santana nods, smiling.

"And how is Brittany?" He continues, his features as soft as ever. She also notices the brief frosty change in her Mother at the mention of the name.

"Same. She's adjusting quite nicely." She responds, a slight crease on her forehead. "I-I'm sorry. Did we do something wrong?"

"Oh, not at all. Your brother cannot stop talking about his excitement of having a _new_ sister. What was his term? Ah, so 'cool'!" The King chuckles. A smile crosses over the Queen's face. Santana mirrors the amusement as well. "Anyway, your Mother and I were just discussing about my supposed abdication this week."

The casualness of it all takes her aback. She repeats the words in her mind before speaking. " _Supposed_ abdication?"

The King nods. Santana's mind races. "I-I'm confused."

"Naturally, _mija_. Let us enlighten you." He answers. "Your Mother and I have compromised about a few things. One of them is delaying the abdication and pushing the announcement back for a month and a half. The abdication itself happening three months from now."

"I-I don't understand _._ Why?"

Ricardo glances at Maribel with a look she can't discern. Her Father says, "Due to the overwhelming media coverage our family has been subjected to lately, we think it's best that we focus on that and let it run its course before we focus on this momentous event."

Santana blinks. She could practically hear the gears in her head turning.

"Is this your subtle way of telling me that both of you do not want me to become Queen anymore?" She eyes them with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"No, Santana. Not at all." Her Mother cuts in, giving her a small smile. The first kind gesture Santana's received from her after two weeks of not talking. "I think what your father is trying to tell you is that, you should concentrate on your engagement for now. We are pushing back your ascension for a few months so you can enjoy this time with Brittany." She finishes with no trace of bitterness in her words for once.

Santana sighs. There has to be a catch to all of this. Nice things have never come easy for her nor handed on a silver platter.

" _Why?_ " She asks once again, the tone more pleading this time. As if asking for her parents to drop all pretenses and to lay it out all for her.

The King takes a deep breath and nods. "For the longest time, our family has been under scrutiny for government and financial reasons. Your Mother and I have gone through so much in the past three decades, mending every bridge there is and doing everything we can for the country. But sometimes these efforts are frail. Slowly, the people began to lose faith in us and some even wrote us off as an unnecessary fixture in our country."

"But you are a great King, _Papi_. The people love you."

"It wasn't always that way, _Santanita_." He smiles. "Believe it or not, your birth paved the way for us regaining their trust again. It was a gift to us all. The decision to create a law making you the heir to the throne became monumental as well. As unacceptable of a behavior as it is of the press, your outing helped improve matters even more. And we thought it was the best thing to ever happen to our family until a few weeks ago when Brittany came into our lives."

"We have never seen such media obsession coming from the people." Her Mother says. "Our family has never been that popular like that of _the_ Queen and the press has never been interested in our personal lives as much as they have with William and Harry's. But with your engagement," Maribel raises an eyebrow for effect. "the family's popularity as well as our approval ratings have soared into its highest they have ever been. Your approval rating is at ninety-two percent and the country cannot wait for you to become Queen, _Mija._ "

Santana closes her eyes as she looks at the ground with a deep sigh. All these years, it's as if she needs to be treated like a kid. Now, she understands what they are getting at. Now, she understands _why_.

"You want to take advantage of the publicity of it all." She states with a nonchalant tone.

The King and Queen glance at each other again, apprehension dawning in her father's eyes.

"Yes, _Mija._ " Her Mother utters with that stern tone she uses for business decisions. "For the longest time, we have been plagued by one bad publicity after another. This turn of events has altered our image completely. The interest in our country has been renewed and multiplied to an extreme. An outstanding boom in tourism is a great start, for one thing. For once, we are being treated equally, in popularity, with that of the British royal family. We are no longer a mere afterthought. Your fiancée is being hailed as the next Princess Diana as much as the idea detests me."

Feelings of frustration bubble up in her once again. Rage gradually taking her body bit by bit. She wants nothing more than to scream all her frustrations at her Mother for even suggesting this unfathomable request. And if it weren't for her father's weak health, she would have done so already. She doesn't understand why she can't be left alone for once. She doesn't find reason in using who she is as if her own life doesn't belong to her.

"Mother, you want to exploit Brittany and my engagement for popularity?" She whispers, keeping her anger at bay for as much as she can.

The Queen remains unmoved. "We are at a unique place to take back the glory that was once ours, Santana. This _popularity_ ," She emphasizes. "can be used to influence other people, countries, or families as prominent as ours to help our country. All of which brings us to the compromise: We are delaying your ascension for you to tend to your personal affairs and in return, you will take advantage of all the publicity regarding your engagement and Brittany."

"No." She answers almost instantly. "I cannot speak for Brittany but I will not compromise the little freedom that she and I have for- for this!"

The Queen maintains a straight face, unruffled by the outburst. The King, a smart move to have this discussion with him in the room to alleviate any struggle for fear of his current fragile state, stays silent.

"This is not a matter up for debate, Santana. Your father is not in a pristine condition to rule on these matters, so I will for now. You and Brittany will do as I say so as it is both your duty." The Queen proclaims. A definite sign that this conversation is effectively over and done with. Her Father throws her an apologetic look. Her Mother continues, "In fact, since you two are now the face of our family in the press, you will also take Brittany to your state visit in England two weeks from now."

Santana closes her eyes for a brief second, taking the deepest breath she could muster. She is so, _so_ close to losing it. She can feel the wrath emanating from the tip of her fingers, the outrage radiating through her entire body. But she holds back. She holds back like she always does.

"Fine. We will oblige." She responds without missing a beat. It surprises her parents when she'd usually put up some more fight. "As long as you would both try and put some time into getting to know Brittany."

The King agrees almost immediately to the suggestion. The Queen scoffs at the idea, as if she had said something comical. "I have already begrudgingly accepted _that_ woman into our lives. I have no obligations to spend time with her- _"_

"All you care about is yourself and this family's image, Mother." She remarks, scoffing. "You do realize that your only daughter will be married soon and that Brittany will be your daughter-in-law, don't you? You- You treat us as if we're a form of currency for you to barter! Perhaps you need to ask yourself when was the last time you acted like a Mother to me rather than the Queen of this country because I've been asking myself that question for the longest time."

Santana doesn't wait for her Mother's response as she walks out.

* * *

Brittany is overwhelmed, to say the least.

For almost a whole month now, she has been subjected to a lot of first things in her life. First time meeting famous people. First time being served by people waiting for her beck and call. First time being treated _literally_ like a Princess.

And it's fine, she supposes. She never really asked for all of these things but like she said, it's _fine._ As she has come to discover these past few weeks, this type of attention comes at a cost. This life can be quite restricting.

With popularity comes with great responsibility too. A responsibility to not screw things up for everyone to witness. She cannot act like she's still in New York. She cannot think like a commoner anymore, as Kurt puts it. She needs to mind her every move. Every word. Every facial expression.

In her dancing career, she's never had any problem with attention. It came with every performance anyway. But having people's eyes on her all the time now, waiting for her every move, every word, is anxiety inducing. In comparison with dancing, spectators' eyes only remain on her for as long as she is on the platform. In real life, it doesn't stop even after she gets off the stage.

 _This type of attention comes at a cost. This life can be quite restricting._

Almost a month into her Princess lessons and she's learned quite a lot. Always sit with your legs closed and slanted to the side, never cross them. Always sit straight, shoulders back, never relax against your seat unless necessary. Always walk with your heel first, your stance straight, head up high, never slouch. Always offer a handshake to the people, listen to whatever they're saying and answer appropriately, never go beyond a handshake for physical contact.

Remember people's names so they are of the impression they connected well with you. Clothes should be proper and kept perfect at all times. Those are what she's taken to heart so far due to repetition from her teacher but there are so much more. The fact that her posture is the only straight thing about her becomes a running joke on her mind.

The thought of all these only makes her sigh over and over again. Santana and Diego always appear immaculate, well-behaved, and well-mannered. Of course, they've been doing this their whole lives. But the thing is, as a commoner herself, it's not that easy to immerse one's self completely into this life. It would take some time, as everyone tells her. Even the limited freedom to be with Santana, compared to their carefree days in New York, is something she needs to gets used to.

 _This type of attention comes at a cost. This life can be quite restricting._

Memories of New York become hazy. The homesickness has faded away by now. And she feels that her dancing career, or what it was then, is only a distant recollection of her past. A little part of herself screams for something familiar, something comforting. As much as she's excited to marry Santana and start a new chapter in their lives, a little part of her yearns _not_ to part with what used to be _her._ So carefree, so hungry to make her dreams of becoming a dancer in New York come true. She supposes this pipe dream of hers, as it has become, is best left in the past. She supposes that it's time to embrace who she is now and live this new chapter in her life.

And it's _fine_. She just didn't expect all this attention to come at a cost, this life to be quite restricting.

"Are you ready, Britt?" Kurt's words take her off her trance.

Brittany looks out the window on her left to see the limousine approaching the event proper for her first public event with the royal family.

"Everything okay, babe?" Santana asks on her right, flashing her a small smile.

"Y-Yeah. Just nervous. I don't want to make things worse with the Queen during my first event with her."

Kurt and Santana glance at each other. The secretary speaks, "How about we all take a deep breath first?" He does so and gestures for them do the same as well. "Good. Now just remember to do that for the next hour or so. Otherwise, you will die a very public death due to asphyxiation of your own doing."

Brittany chuckles. "I'll survive. You guys taught me well, anyway. I just need to remember them while I'm out there."

"Yes. And just a quick reminder, as usual, no PDA. Don't improvise and do something rash. Like I told you last night, there are kids with flowers waiting for both of you so just accept them, converse with them for a while, and hand the flowers to the bodyguards who will take care of it. Just try to mingle while we wait for the Queen and His Royal Highness to arrive. Don't forget to shake their hands and whoever is near you. Try to repeat their names every now and then. Wave and always smile. No selfies, no autographs." He drones on, eyes on his cellphone as he types a message.

"And _por favor_ , you are wearing a Gucci dress and Prada shoes. Remember that if someone asks because otherwise, death by strangulation instead of asphyxiation will be your public death courtesy of _moi._ "

Santana chortles, squeezing the blonde's hand. "She'll be fine, Kurt. Diego and I will be right there too, so don't stress her too much about it."

Brittany nods, looking out the window again. Her thoughts go to Santana's words last night about the Queen's orders of taking advantage of their engagement publicity and her rising popularity with the masses. She couldn't say she was surprised. She only wishes that she could prove herself to the Queen that she's worthy of a little attention from her, that she's not someone out to ruin this family, that she just wants to connect with her fiancée's mother.

The limousine pulls over beside a new and modern-looking white building with vast grounds. The walkway to the front side of the building is prepped with a small stage. The outskirts of the whole area have steel barricades from side to side with people overflowing behind them, all the way to where they pull over.

Kurt alights the vehicle first followed by Santana then Brittany. The moment she does, deafening screams and blinding lights take over. As her lessons have prepared her, she smiles and waves to everyone. She doesn't necessarily look at anyone in particular seeing that they're all shouting at her and Santana at the same time. If she thought that being around strangers at the Palace triggers feelings of anxiety in her, then this, people screaming and photographers shouting her name over and over again, definitely precipitates shortness of breath and rapid heart beating.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

Side by side with Santana, Kurt leads them to the children with flowers. All three of the little ones looking nervous and out of their wits. The guardians behind them are star struck at seeing the royal couple. Santana places a quick touch on Brittany's lower back, guiding her towards the first child in line while flashing her a quick smile.

" _Buenos tardes_ , _Senora_ Pierce, _Princesa_ Santana." A thin boy with black hair, not older than eleven by the looks of him, greets them with a head bow while offering sunflowers.

It makes Brittany smile genuinely for the first time since they alighted the limo. She crouches for a few inches to meet eye to eye with the boy and takes the flowers. No one really taught her to crouch during these times but seeing the height difference between them, she could take the initiative herself.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

" _Hola_ , _chico._ These are very beautiful. What's your name?" She asks. The kid only stares at her all dumbfounded then at Santana. Brittany glances at her fiancée as well and puts two and two together.

Santana mirrors her crouching and asks the kid something in Spanish as Brittany waits.

" _Raul_ , Your Royal Highness." He responds shyly but with a smile.

Brittany grins and holds out her hand for him to take. It surprises the kid but he takes it, this time a bit more relaxed. "Hello, Raul. I'm Brittany. This is my fiancée, Santana." She gestures to the brunette who offers him a handshake too. "How old are you, _Raul_?"

Santana translates once again and does the same for Brittany, acting as a middleman. They do this dance for the next two children, the guardians, and a few more spectators fighting each other for a chance to meet the couple. Engaging in small talk every so often.

Kurt approaches them and announces the Queen and Prince's arrival. Santana and Brittany take to their places in an assembly line in front of the masses just as the Queen and Prince do too. Diego smiles at her as he passes by but the Queen acts like she doesn't even exist unbeknownst to the people. Sulking isn't really a good form so she just places her hands in front of her torso, with one in front of the other and tries to pay attention to what's about to unfold.

The program begins with a man starting his speech about the royal family and the newly built building. Brittany can't really understand anything since it's in Spanish but his gesturing and glancing at them every once in a while is enough to give it away. She takes this time to space out, so to speak.

She looks around her and observes at how every person she looks at just so happens to be staring back at her with wide smiles and all, cameras flashing everywhere all at once. It alarms her a bit to be aware that her every move is documented and watched. A small part of her can't help but think she's like an animal trapped in a zoo. Or a carnival attraction.

She surveys the people nearby. Countless bodyguards. Kurt waiting in the wings and keeping a stern eye on them. Reporters speaking into their recorders. Paparazzi fighting each other's personal space for a pristine shot.

This is not a stage where she's waiting to perform. This is real-life where every bad move she makes will either excite or horrify everyone. The shortness of breath and rapid heart beating begins again and she tries her best to negate the feeling. She looks to her right and notices how proper the Royals are. My, she practically sticks out like a sore thumb.

She takes a deep breath and pretends to listen to the speech while concentrating on her form. That is until something catches her attention.

The echoes of crying from somewhere among the front row of the crowd.

Brittany takes a quick look on her left from the corner of her eye. She zones in on a blonde little girl, height not even reaching Brittany's torso by the looks of her, appearing to be lost as her eyes dart constantly from left to right while crying.

Brittany's stare remains on the child, casting her glance around the adults who all seem to be so preoccupied with taking pictures of _her_ rather than the kid who appears to be afraid out of her wits. She attempts to ignore it at first. Tries to concentrate on the reason for the event but fails at it. She finds herself staring intently at the crying child, powerless to do anything.

"Britt?" Santana's whispering voice captures her attention. She looks to her right to see the brunette giving her a concerned look with half her attention still on the speech. "Are you alright?"

She peeks at the child still unaccounted for, crying even louder now. It doesn't take her long to acknowledge everything before spectators in the second row begin to move for a better vantage point to see the royal family and her. The sudden movement start to crowd the first row and in return, risk swallowing the child into the horde with no adult or family coming to claim her.

Brittany's eyes widen at the thought. The shortness of breath and rapid heart beating ceases altogether. All her senses now directed at the impending ordeal before her. The idea of possibly enabling the loss of a child terrifies her beyond belief. She catches a glimpse at Santana's questioning eyes, Diego subtly trying to see what they are talking about, and the Queen's interest piqued while side-eyeing her.

She takes a deep breath, the world going mute around her. Kurt's gospel rule was to never, _ever_ break protocol. And here she is, about to make the royal family and everyone working for them, absolutely hate her with every fiber of their being.

Brittany doesn't look at anywhere but where the child is. She wills all her strength into moving her feet towards that direction. The previous attention given to the speech are now on her. The paparazzi and reporters immediately take note of all of this as they try to make sense or blank on what she's doing or about to do. Everyone's attention are all on her, and her alone.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

She doesn't pay it any mind, mostly because if she does, she'll make a fool of herself more than she already has by turning away. Instead, the blonde walks swiftly with a mission in hand amidst the clamor of the crowd as she approaches them and flashing lights going off mere feet away from her face.

Brittany's arrival in front of the audience stops the crowd's movement, halting the surge coming the child's way. Even more so, the blonde child stops crying when Brittany squats down to level with her, being careful with her dress as to not flash everyone in the vicinity.

 _Click! Click! Click!_

" _Hola, chica._ " She greets the child who is completely astonished to be addressed by her. The people around them take it upon themselves to take videos and unlimited photos of the scene. She ignores it and places all her attention on the kid and continues with a smile. "What is your name? _Cómo te llamas_?" She translates the words herself this time.

"E-Elena, Se _ñ_ _orita_." The kid responds, wiping off her tears and cleaning her hands on her pink dress.

"Elena." She says. "That's a very pretty name. _Qué hermoso nombre_. _Me llamo_ Brittany." She responds, offering her a handshake. The kid reluctantly takes it and gives her a small smile. She speaks in the softest of tones, "Are you lost, Elena? Where is your guardian?" She trails off and pauses, unsure how to translate her words at all.

Brittany glances to her side to see Santana trudging beside her, sneaking a smile as she squats to focus on the child. She expected a look of disdain or even exasperation but instead, she's greeted with that of love. She looks behind her to see a horde of bodyguards enveloping their position as well.

"Elena, this is Santana. She will help us." Brittany gestures to the brunette. The small child only stares at them. Santana flashes Elena a smile. She offers her a handshake then holds on to it for comfort.

 _"Estás perdido, chica? Dónde está tu familia?_ _"_

" _N-No lo sé_ _,_ _la princesa."_ Elena mutters under her breath, eyes watering with tears again.

"She says she doesn't know where her family is." The Princess tells Brittany. Before she can ask the brunette to translate the following words for her, Elena continues on speaking while Santana translates it for Brittany as she goes. "She says she's with her Mother and she remembers her wearing a bright pink dress with big, white leaves in it. She wanted to be in front to see everything and when she looked back, her mother wasn't there anymore."

Brittany nods, holding the child's other hand and rubbing the top of it to calm her. She surveys the vicinity around them only to see that the event has stopped completely because of this. Because of her _again_. On her left, she sees Kurt whispering something to a few men in suits who merges themselves into the crowd in an instant. If she's not mistaken, that's a signal to scurry and find Elena's mother.

"Britt," Santana says, eyes on Elena who's speaking intently now as she interprets. "she says her mother took her here to see you. She just started ballet and she is not good yet. You are her idol because she wants to become a dancer too." The brunette ends the words as Elena smiles shyly at her, looking down at the ground again and hair falling in front of her face.

Brittany's heart practically explodes out of warmth for this little girl. She glances at the brunette beside her who's sporting the same affection for the child. She thought everything she's been doing has been for naught so far. She never thought this would happen lest inspire anyone.

The spectators closest to them fall into 'aww's upon hearing Elena say the words. The photographers take this moment to invade into their personal spaces all the more. From beyond the crowd, she sees a blonde, disheveled woman wearing the aforementioned dress design, being ushered towards the front by security.

Elena's mother cries out in relief, crouching to give her daughter the tightest hug as she cries. The woman exchanges words with Santana, thanking them, from what she's picked up, and bowing her head at the brunette who grins widely and shakes the mother's hand.

"This is my fiancée, Brittany." Santana gestures to her. She offers a handshake to the mother. "She wants to thank you personally." Santana translates Elena's mother's words. "If it weren't for you, she would have lost Elena in the crowd completely."

"Santana would have done the same." She responds and after the translation, the mother only nods frantically in glee.

Kurt comes over to them. "Your Royal Highness, Miss Pierce?" He states, words laden with so much meaning and warning.

They both nod. They turn back to the mother and daughter once again. Santana bids them goodbye and good luck, addressing the child with fondness.

Brittany does the same and asks the mother, "She told us she just started with ballet?"

Santana interprets the mother's words. "She says, yes, Elena started her lessons after she discovered you were a dancer on the news. She's been having a hard time lately because she doesn't feel like she's improving."

She nods, grinning as she focuses on a shy Elena. As if throwing all that Brittany's been taught so far, she takes a small clip from her head and pins it on the child's head to remove the stray hair away of her face. She grins as she says, with Santana translating her words as she speaks, "Don't give up. Practice makes perfect, Elena. But perseverance is even better." And to drive it all home with breaking protocol, embraces the kid tightly. The move elicits audible gasps and cheers from everyone in an instant. The headlines practically sprawled on every article in the world by now.

Santana leads them back in line to their previous positions, hand in hand while proudly waving to the people. The moment Brittany takes her spot, their hands pulling apart, the same feelings of loneliness from a while ago rise up once once more. The shortness of breath comes back upon realizing that everyone is staring at her like a hawk again, all the more this time. She peers at her left and sees Kurt pursing his lips, an expression she can't discern but definitely not pleased.

On her right, the organizers of the event prepare to continue the program. The man giving the speech from a while ago eyes her with a certain indifference as he carries on with his speech. Beside her, Santana throws her a wink and a big smile, even going for a quick hand squeeze to cheer her up. Diego joins in by eliciting a subtle smirk at her.

The Queen is a different story.

Santana's Mother turns all her attention toward Brittany for the first time since they've met each other after the parade. She looks at Brittany straight in the eye with utter disdain shining through in every way, as if the blonde is the worst thing to ever grace the face of this Earth. The Queen has fury in her eyes in the split-second glance that cuts through Brittany's soul enough to render the latter frozen and speechless for the remainder of the event.

And Brittany knows, she just knows it, her day's about to turn into the worst of her entire life.

* * *

 **Oooh... Share your thoughts? :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Make yourself some tea or popcorn. Get comfy. Dis bitch be long.**

* * *

Santana has had experience with 'breaking protocol' several times in the past. She has dropped the ball, so to speak, a great deal herself. Sometimes because of pure bullheadedness. Other times she had no choice because of external elements. Sometimes just because. Minor ones involved running off to another country for a day or two to be alone, to spite everyone or for the hell of it. Interacting above and beyond the 'handshake' protocol, some of which involved embracing a few kids and elderly here and there too. And there are times when she was unaware she broke them until it was too late.

The first major one happened when she was fourteen. Ever since she can remember, she has always had an aversion to the 'royal' lifestyle. All the fame. Media obsession. Excessive concern for being prim and proper at all times. Looking back, she attributed it to being a teenager. But years later, her feelings remain the same. More so now.

And so, in a first of her many rebellions, she decided that instead of continuing her education in a private school in Madrid, she would instead go to a renowned private boarding school in Switzerland. It's the most expensive boarding school in the world. It's where her grandfather attended when he was the same age. It was not in the plans for her. But given the circumstances, the Queen was satisfied. The King was impressed.

It's a place far, _far_ away from everything. She was elated more than words could say.

The second time came around when she was eighteen. It was during her birthday. A small party was held at a posh nightclub in London. Everyone who was _anyone_ was there. Some royals, including William and Harry, were there too. She didn't know half the people Bourbon House invited. She doesn't even like partying that much. It acted as more of a persona, an image to the public, to make her more interesting and less one note in everybody's eyes. It was one of the first instances she saw how people could be so manipulative to gain her favor for their own benefit. It was the first time she became well aware how lonely a party could make someone.

It was a bit past midnight. She was making her exit of the nightclub, intoxicated and tired, when a horde of paparazzi mob her on her way out. It was fine. She was used to it. She had a bevy of bodyguards hurriedly ushering her into her limousine. But out of nowhere, one of the photographers managed to grab her by the arm and drag her to ground. It caused a disturbance when she got up and pushed said photographer away, elbowed him on the face, and attempted to go after him. She was already a black belt in Karate then. The only thing that held her back from ruining the man's face were her bodyguards who basically threw her into the car for her protection as well as running after the photographer.

It was mayhem. It was the first time a member of the Spanish royal family was attacked and also the first time the world saw any royal at all fight back. There were conflicting reports of what happened on the news, unnecessary opinion by every other person obsessed with royals, and a battle of the people who thought she had the right to protect herself and some who thought she should not have broken royal protocol and continued like nothing was wrong seeing that she is a princess.

Nevertheless, the King and Queen, the latter more so, were adamant on protecting her. Indicating the perils of Santana's invasion of privacy as well as the danger of her getting seriously injured. The photographer was jailed for what he did and ordered to pay a hefty fine that was donated to charity. It was one of the few times her Mother stood up for her. One of the few times she felt like she had a Mother.

The third and recent so far was when she escaped Palace life and jetted off to New York with Kurt instead of staying put in Madrid. Unlike the other instances, this one turned out for the better. The best it could have possibly be.

As always of course, a party pooper, as Americans call it, arises in the form of her Mother's intense disapproval. The memory of the Queen giving Brittany and her split-second stares at the event with utmost abhorrence is a sight to behold. A dozen emotions swirling inside her at the very thought of being summoned with Brittany for conversations that will hold a lot of disagreements yet again.

"I am so dead, San. I am so, _so_ dead. Your Mother is going to send me to Spanish prison and I'll rot there for the rest of my miserable life." Brittany covers her whole face with her hands and shakes her head vigorously.

Santana purses her lips, rubbing the blonde's arm for comfort as she gazes out the window of the limousine. The event ended not too long ago and they are almost home now. By the looks of her fiancée, almost about to meet their demise.

"Don't be ridiculous, Britt. The Queen will probably kill you first." Kurt comments beside them.

Santana throws him a sharp look. He continues with a biting tone, "I'm not exaggerating, Princess. We both saw how the Queen reacted." He turns to the blonde. "I had one rule for you, Britt. I told you not to break protocol. Out of all the things I specifically had you follow, you go out of your way to _not_ do the one thing I asked you to. I have never seen the Queen fuming like that." He lets out a deep breath. "We are so dead, you guys."

"This is in no way a 'we' situation!" Brittany cries out in sheer panic.

They reach _Palacio de la Zarzuela_ shortly after. It doesn't take them a few minutes upon getting home at the Manor, haven't gotten the chance to change clothes yet, when the Queen has them summoned to the Palace Mansion's Study.

"I shouldn't have done that, San. I'm sorry. I-I was just worried about the kid and-" Brittany rambles on as they stop in front of the Study's doors with Kurt.

"Hey," Santana mutters, lifting the blonde's chin to meet her gaze. "you did what you think was the proper thing to do at that moment and I support your decision." She smiles, rubbing the blonde's shoulders. "You've been here for barely a month. It's alright to make mistakes. You learn from them."

Brittany gives out a small smile albeit still apprehensive. Santana opens the doors to the study, intertwining her hands with Brittany's firm grip. Her Mother looks up from fixing her tea to see them enter the room. From afar, Santana could see she's about to get one hell of a sermon. How she should have prepped Brittany better. How it's all her fault, as always.

" _Mija,_ Kurt," The Queen trails off, a sharp stare directed at them, as she and her secretary brace themselves for the onslaught. "Leave us."

Santana blinks. She didn't expect this at all. She sneaks a glance at Kurt behind them who seems to be thinking the same thing too. She turns her attention on the blonde who is frozen in terror then back at her Mother's unrelenting gaze.

The Queen takes a sip of her tea in the most casual way then sputters in a calm tone, "Leave Brittany and I alone."

"I-I'm not leaving her here-"

"San," Brittany whispers, tugging her hand. "it's okay."

"But I-"

"It's okay. I'll be okay." The blonde smiles, nodding at her. Santana stays still, running the possible outcomes of whatever her Mother is cooking up. She takes one last look at her Mother looking back at her and reluctantly exits the room with Kurt.

"We can't leave her there alone. What do we do?" She utters as soon as the doors close. Kurt only purses his lips and sighs.

"Pray for her soul, Princess."

* * *

This is it. This is how it all ends. The sweet, sweet merciful bounty of death about to pounce her.

She can feel her legs go jelly. Hands shaking. Heart thumping to the beat of the drum. Palms sweaty. Knees weak, arms heavy. Mom's spaghetti.

The harbinger of her demise is sitting in front of her, stare trained on Brittany as if she's the only one who matters in this stinking, cruel world.

"Have a seat." The Queen says, motioning to the lounge chair adjacent to the monarch.

Brittany doesn't say anything and simply obliges, making sure she adheres to the best posture and stance taught to her when sitting down. A brief silence takes over. The Queen taking her sweet time with her tea while Brittany watches the woman do her thing, her mind going into overdrive over the dozen scenarios that could unfold.

She regards the older woman. Being in the presence of the Queen is an experience in itself. It could be the impassive face, the immaculate stance and movement as if floating on air, or perhaps the intimidating beauty and wisdom the monarch beholds. To be the center of her attention, or in this case, wrath, is enough to rattle even the most put together person on earth in shambles. What more to an anxiety-laden and almost-reaching-Britney-Spears-mental-breakdown Brittany?

"Brittany," The Queen starts, sitting back and sporting a poker face with all her attention on the blonde. "do you know why I called for you?"

Brittany swallows the lump in her throat, face pasty white as she glances on the ground. "Y-Your Majesty, I-I'm sorry-"

"For what? For breaking protocol? For interrupting the Union leader mid-speech? For disrupting the event on the eve of a national strike?"

"W-Wha-"

"Do you know the purpose of the event this afternoon?"

Brittany blinks. She takes in the dagger gaze pointed at her. "The opening of the new hospital for veterans, women, and children."

"Yes. As is the disabled and elderly. Do you know why this was chosen as your first public appearance with us?"

Brittany remains silent.

"Because you missed the most important part." The Queen narrows her eyes and purses her lips in the subtlest of way. She continues, "The hospital and its services offer free healthcare. The first of its kind in all of Spain. Were you aware of that?"

The blonde's heartbeat ceases for a quick second. She shakes her head.

"Naturally. Because of the ruckus that happened earlier, neither will anyone else. Because of what happened, this milestone is best left forgotten over you embracing a lost child in a crowd." The Queen takes a deep breath, regarding every fiber of her being.

"Given your immense popularity as of late, we thought it would bring a great deal of attention to the cause. Perhaps alleviate the growing tensions between the business and the Union by offering a billion euro state-of-the-art hospital to the masses. Unfortunately, it was for naught."

Brittany sinks deeper into her seat in shame. She musters all the courage in her to say, "I-I can get better at this, Your Majesty. Maybe with a little more time because I'm not used to all these fancy things. I'm used to my life in New York. I'm new to everything-"

The Queen taking a deep breath cuts off her rambling. "It. Is. Not. An. Excuse." The monarch says, a crease on her forehead. "I'm sure you were given instructions to follow protocol only you chose not to out of stubbornness. Santana will become Queen in a few months. You will become a Princess upon marriage to her. You did not think twice before you acted. You cannot make mistakes of the sort as it reflects on Santana."

Brittany tries hard to rein in her emotions. Otherwise, she'd bawling her eyes out in front of the Queen any moment now.

"Perhaps rescuing the child was the right decision, perhaps not. What is definitely for certain is by breaking protocol, you have almost severed our ties with the livid Union party. You've unknowingly helped terminate a supposed bargain contract with one of the biggest contractors in Barcelona for plans of a university with free tuition for the citizens. We've managed to calm down the Board of Education with a promise to find a new contract for the planned university within 48 hours which is bloody near impossible." The Queen sighs in exasperation. "The only thing you have helped in the past hour is the massive spike in sales for your attire today."

Brittany hangs her head low, fidgeting with her hand. She knew there were consequences. She knew she did something wrong. She greatly miscalculated just how much havoc she's wreaked.

"I-I don't know what to say except to apologize for what I've done, Your M-Majesty." She says without looking up, tears pooling at the back of her eyes.

The Queen sizes her up. The icy features and darken stare back in place again. "Being a royal is not all about just expensive suits and dresses, fancy balls, parades, and meetings, Brittany. Every choice and decision we make for this family is for a reason. Not merely to mess with your personal lives." The older woman says with a hard tone. "Being in a place of power grants you just that, power beyond a commoner's grasp. Difficult doesn't begin to cover it. Ricardo and I make the hard choices unblinking as if it's second nature. We _need_ to because no one else will."

The Queen continues, her features softening in a defeated way, "My daughter has always had a hard time with our way of life. She and I-" She pauses, glancing down for a second. A frown briefly crosses her features. "We haven't always seen eye to eye on a lot of things. She doesn't understand why I am what I need to be, what I do what I have to do. You must understand that our love for this country is unprecedented and we will do everything we can to help it. Even putting it first before anyone else."

Brittany looks down and slowly nods her head in understanding.

"This life is not suited for everyone. It's a way of life one learns from the day of their birth. Something I don't expect you to understand." The Queen huffs. "You are new to this but it is not an excuse. I don't like you but I don't hate you, Brittany. Don't become a liability for us. Forget your life in New York. That 'Brittany Pierce' is gone. From now on, you are Brittany, future Princess of Spain."

* * *

Brittany barely slept last night, bent on repeating her conversation with the Queen yesterday on repeat. She told Santana all about it, of course. But even the brunette's words of encouragement didn't raise her spirits. She even skipped her early morning routine of watching 'Secret and Desires' out of distress.

How one spontaneous decision could affect everyone else in the family. How one reckless action could bring massive repercussions in the politics of it all. How it hurt her to hear from Santana's Mother herself that it will take heaven and hell to be accepted into their family.

It's six thirty in the morning. In her fit of restlessness, she loses hope of catching a wink before Kurt comes knocking in their bedroom again to start a new day. She places a kiss on Santana's forehead and gets up from bed. Might as well do something to distract herself from going insane.

She takes a quick, cold shower and walks over to her own walk-in closet where her new wardrobe awaits and intimidates her. Suffice to say, there is no trace of _her_ in the space. All brand new. All expensive. All measured, bought, and made to fit her. Even the toiletries and essentials are designer brands. She doesn't recognize any clothing or footwear she brought from New York. They're not even what she deems her usual fashion taste. It's all so preppy, so chic. It's a bit more casual than Santana's wardrobe but she's growing into it. Growing into Bourbon House's designated style for her. She settles for a striped Breton long-sleeved shirt, slim-fitting jeans, and white tennis shoes.

She exits the bedroom to see a plump, middle-aged brunette woman named Anita, the Manor's head housekeeper, vacuuming around their loft's living room.

" _Buenos dias_ , Anita." Brittany greets her with a smile.

The housekeeper looks up with surprise and confusion, turning off the vacuum. " _Buenos Dias_ , _Senora_ Pierce. You are up early."

"I couldn't sleep. _No pude dormir_." She throws in the last sentence as a form of a question than a statement.

Anita's face lights up. " _Si, si_. Your Spanish, _Senorita._ It is getting better."

" _Gracias_ , Anita. I have been practicing a lot."

The housekeeper smiles. "Would you like me to prepare you some breakfast?"

" _No, gracias._ I was hoping to make breakfast for Santana-" She retorts just as a newspaper resting on the coffee table catches her attention. She walks over to it and sprawls the paper out to unveil the complete headline in English.

" _Brittany Pierce disrupts royal event to help lost child find mother"._

Below the words is a photo of her squatting to comfort Elena. She reads the first paragraph, stating her heroics and eventually delving into her flaws of breaking protocol. To further add insult to the injury, as the Queen said yesterday, there was no mention of the new hospital and its use for the people at all. She looks down at the coffee table again to see another newspaper, this one in Spanish. She doesn't bother to read the headline or the article and only stares at the photo of Santana and her tending to the crying child to everyone's joy.

 _"Senorita_ Pierce? Are you okay?" Anita's voice takes her off of her trance.

Brittany takes a deep breath, a crease on her forehead. She places the newspaper back on the coffee table and looks up at the housekeeper.

She forces a tight-lipped smile. She walks to the closet just by the stairs and grabs a light jacket before turning to Anita again. "On second thought, I'm taking a walk instead."

Her initial introduction to the whole Palace grounds was with Kurt during her first day here. She doesn't remember anything seeing what she went through that day. Now, ten minutes into her walk and she fears she's entered another realm. She started from the nearby stables and practice ground for the horses then turned right towards a fountain and another fountain, with a statue of what she remembers is Santana's great grandfather's cat who burned an entire wing of the Palace, then, well, she's lost. Oh well. She lets herself be, a novel feeling for once.

The whole place is more stunning at this early hour. The sunrise can be seen by the bridge overlooking the lake. The smell of trees swirling around the air. The slight chill breezing every now and then, enough for her to embrace herself tighter into her jacket.

Just days shy of a month in Spain and she realizes that she has never journeyed around the Palace grounds. She's always taken to and from events and appointments in a Rolls Royce. Escorted outside the Palace by an ever-changing 24-hour security like Santana. In fact, she's sure she spends eighty percent of her time inside the Manor. Like a prisoner behind these stone walls. It sometimes feels that way, anyway.

She never really had this much of a space to loiter around with fresh air and beautiful surroundings at every nook and turn. Sure, you could walk around New York but the pollution and noise aren't really winning points. She takes this time to clear her head. To think of happy thoughts. Ever since she arrived in Madrid, her life has changed in a drastic way. Her life turned upside down. It's barely the first month. What more could three, six, or even a year or two will do to her? What could living here for the rest of her days turn her into?

She turns to a corner leading to another courtyard of sorts, the Palace Mansion can be seen from afar. She stops in her steps upon reaching a petite, colorful garden. Roses and daisies mostly. Interconnected with the space is a different kind of garden, still small, one with plants and vegetables. She surveys the whole row of plants and flowers and notices some of them have wilted, some almost dead, some still thriving. Looking over the area, she can't help but feel homesick. A pinch in her heart. It reminds her of her family. Her Mother's love for gardening. Or how their vegetable garden saved them some days when they fell short. Those struggles to stay afloat back then seem so distant with how much their farm has been thriving lately because of her newfound – _unwanted_ \- fame.

"Ah, _Buenos dias,_ Brittany!" A deep, manly voice exclaims behind her in a chirpy tone.

"Jesus Christ!" She cries out, jumping in surprise and holding on to her chest. She glances behind her with wide eyes to see the King behind the bushes of roses, wearing a gardening apron over his casual clothes, beaming at her.

"You have an affinity with religion, _no?_ First, you addressed me as the Pope and now, _Jesus_." He laughs. "I wonder what you will call me next. The Holy Spirit, perhaps?"

Brittany blinks, completely taken aback. This is the first time she's seen the King since she met him. She does a quick head bow. "O-Oh. I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I meant no disrespect. I just didn't expect anyone else to be here at this time."

"Nonsense, Brittany! You have done nothing wrong!" The King waves his hand in disregard. "And haven't we agreed on refraining from formal salutations?"

She returns the smile, nodding. She never noticed it before but she's pretty sure the King's accent for speaking in English is more British than Spanish.

"Very well then. If I may ask, why are you awake at this early hour? It is barely seven in the morning."

The blonde's eyebrows raise. She opens her mouth then closes it while looking around the place and gesturing mindlessly. "E-Exercising, sir."

The King gives her a once-over, surveying her non-workout, preppy, expensive clothes and spotless white tennis shoes. He looks up at her again with a deadpan look, one comparable to that of characters from The Office staring into the camera in comical exasperation.

"I see." He says, like the gentleman that he is, with a polite smile that doesn't hide the amusement behind it.

She forces a grin. More like showing her teeth as if he's a dentist through her unfounded nervousness at having a casual conversation with the King alone. "How about you, sir? I-If I may ask, that is?"

"Tending to my garden." The King grins like a Cheshire cat as he holds up both of his hands previously hidden from Brittany's view to unveil him wearing gardening gloves, his right hand holding scissors.

Brittany surveys the whole area with surprise all over her features. "All of this?" She points to the petite lawn.

"Yes. It is my hobby." He states proudly. "All of it used to be much vibrant. But when I had a-" He pauses, tone becomes solemn. "when my condition became apparent, the doctors prohibited me from any demanding physical activities such as this. The lot went untended. Diego and the household tried their best on minding the garden but none of them has the green thumb like I do." He beams.

Brittany could see it now. How Santana has that certain charm everyone finds fascinating. It's basically a genetic thing passed down from her father to her. As is the face value too. The combination of The King and Queen, by looks alone, really do produce good-looking children. She could see why the man is revered and loved by the people. A mild demeanor, a charming persona, and a childlike wonder about him over a hobby any other average person has. She could see why Santana only has good words to say about her father, why The King is her hero.

"Maybe the garden doesn't like them. My mom told me plants and flowers have feelings too. I'm sure the Roses and Daisies gossip sometimes about who hurt them then protest by not blossoming." She says with such innocence. The King breaks out into a hearty laugh over the delightful comment, one which Brittany joins in.

"Perhaps." He says when he comes down from his cackling. "I haven't laughed like that for some time, Brittany. _Gracias_."

She smiles, more relaxed now. She glances at her watch and supposes Kurt and Santana won't be up for another hour or two. Might as well try to bond with her future father-in-law. "If you don't mind, sir, maybe I could lend a hand? I have experience and I promise I won't hurt their feelings."

The King chuckles and nods excitedly. "Of course, of course."

After putting on the proper attire, Brittany scurries beside the King this time. "What can I assist you with?"

The King regards the space and hands her gardening shears. "I entrust you with cutting off the huge stems of the roses since I am not allowed to do much heavy lifting. I will take the small ones." He holds up the scissors in his right hand again with a dopey smile.

Brittany nods and they get to work. A comfortable silence ensues as they focus on their respective tasks until the King breaks the ice, attention still on the roses.

"I take it your mother has a garden too, Brittany?"

"Yes, sir. But not nearly as big as yours." She pauses from cutting stems to think. "She used to have peonies and baby's breath but mostly has vegetables now for practical reasons." She chuckles at a certain memory. The monarch glances at her with curiosity. "I just remembered Santana gathering sweet potatoes and collard greens for dinner when she met my family."

The King chortles. "Now that is a sight I have to see to believe, my dear. I don't think my daughter has ever seen uncut vegetables before she went to America."

She laughs, taking a step to her right to start on a whole column of haywire stems. "My family is quite smitten with her. We weren't together then and I didn't know who she was yet but my parents, they were just in love with her."

"She does have that effect on people." The King chuckles. "This is the first story I have heard of your romance."

"She never told you anything?"

He shakes his head. "My daughter likes to keep to herself a lot, even growing up. She never really shared her feelings or stories about her days. She only started to become more open when Kurt started to work for her."

Brittany purses her lips. With everything she has experienced so far, it's safe to say that it must have been tremendously hard for Santana. She's only been here for quite a while and she's already losing her mind. What more having to deal with all the attention and the press and pressure and rules and expectation ever since birth?

"I'm sure your being there for her eased it somehow." She says with a soft tone.

"That may be so but Maribel and Santana are a different story."

Brittany's shoulders sink at the drop of the Queen's name. It's as if she's conditioned to feel fear at any given time the woman is mentioned. A thing that doesn't go unnoticed by the King.

"I have heard about what happened." He casually mentions, sneaking a glance at her. She's about to apologize for her actions again when the King continues, "You have to stop apologizing. You acted accordingly. You are new to this."

 _"It is not an excuse",_ The Queen's words echo on her mind again. She lets go of the deep breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"I'm going to be honest with you, sir." She mutters, meeting the King's gaze. "I wasn't really up this early to exercise. I hate exercising."

He laughs. "Don't we all, dear?"

She chuckles. "I took a walk because I couldn't sleep at all. I wasn't even able to enjoy my soap opera this morning."

"It has only been a day, _Mija_." He says. "It takes time to let go but you need to somehow. It will pass."

"Thank you, sir." She smiles at him then scrutinizes her work on the roses. "I'm done with this section. What would you like me to do next?"

The King stands straight and looks around him, as if searching for something then frowns.

"What is it?"

"I was searching for the shovel but it seems it is still at the greenhouse."

"It's okay. I can get it for you."

"It's alright, _Mija_. It's a bit far away from where we are standing. I would love to get it myself to check on the greenhouse too but I don't think my strength could take me to and from yet." He frowns, eyes darting over the adjacent side of the Palace grounds.

Brittany follows his gaze, her mind going a mile a minute at a distinct thought.

"Anyway," The King's voice takes her off of her thoughts. "won't you have to get back at the Manor? _Hora de trabajar?_ "

Her eyebrows shoot up, surprised at herself that she understood the Spanish words. " _Aún no,_ sir."

The King nods, impressed. "Your Spanish is getting better."

" _Gracias._ "

She revels in the familiarity and homey feeling helping the King with his garden grants her. As if making the homesickness a bit bearable than usual. She looks over the garden and notices the daisies need divine intervention to save themselves too.

"If you don't mind, sir, maybe I could help you with the rest of the garden and the greenhouse?"

The King pauses on his task and contemplates the offer. "Are you sure? It will take weeks. Lots of early mornings and a few afternoons."

She nods frantically. "To be honest, all of this reminds me of my mother. I don't think I've ever missed my family and friends this much as when I got here."

The King nods thoughtfully. He reaches for the nearby water hose and hands it to the blonde. "But I will require you to speak in Spanish for practice, _si?_ " He smiles, winking.

Brittany grins. " _Si, senor_."

* * *

For the first time in the past month since Brittany arrived and for some miraculous reason, they have a day off.

The better part of the morning was spent sleeping in until noon. A first for Santana for what seems like forever. Perhaps it's Brittany's effect on her. Or the fact that her bed has never been as comfortable as it is ever since the blonde shared it with her.

Lunch was uneventful with Kurt out on a few errands. Santana finds herself lounging on the couch reading a book on a fine afternoon. She holds a mug of tea in one hand and brushing Brittany's shin with the other, the blonde's legs resting on her lap while sprawled on the couch.

She glances on her right and watches Brittany animatedly have a conversation with her friends over a video call, earphones plugged in.

"Sugar, there is no grand entrance on a wedding, okay? The bride _is_ the grand entrance. And no, you can't wear that. Kurt will kill you if you ever so much as wear white let alone a wedding dress too!" Brittany responds in faux exasperation. Santana shakes her head in amusement before going back to her book.

Brittany has been in Spain to this day for a complete month now. As Americans colloquially put it, an anniversary of some sort. Santana has given sufficient thought as to celebrate this occasion. A gift? A homemade dinner? A weekend vacation? Perhaps the latter. Her fiancée told her that she has always wanted to go to Paris and see the Eiffel tower. Or go to Italy and eat pasta from a cheese wheel and those scrumptious pizzas.

"He did what?! _Noo!_ " Brittany cries out, eyebrows shooting up. She retracts her legs from Santana's lap and gets up from the couch in a hurry. She walks over to their bedroom and shuts the door behind her.

Santana blinks then shrugs it off, ignoring the indistinct chattering in the bedroom. The first time she met Brittany and her friends, her first impression of them was that they're an odd group. But as she came to know over the past few months, she realized that their circle is a gem. In fact, they work perfectly around one another's personalities and balance each other out. There's Mercedes, the delightful and funny pact leader. Tina, the friendly and rational one. Brittany, the semi-reserved and conscientious member. And Sugar, the insane girl whom Santana can't believe is allowed to roam around freely with society.

She's used to Kurt's hundreds of spectacles. Ranging from random hysteria, incessant gossiping about high society people that she can't help indulge on too, or plain madness. For the longest time, Kurt has been her only real friend amidst all the fake ones who use her for perks and advantages. Perhaps it's why even after five years of being together and around each other for every single day, she has never been sick of his company. _Yet._

When they got to know Brittany and her friends better, it made her realize that her friendship with Kurt isn't that different, after all. They made her feel accepted for _who_ she is not for _what_ she is. For the first time in her life, people didn't treat her any differently than they would someone of lesser stature. Granted that they didn't know then but when they found out, nothing changed. They didn't have an ounce of treachery in them by running over to the press for the latest scoop about her even if they had a million dollar worth of headline in the palm of their hands back when everything between her and Brittany were still a secret.

They still saw her as Santana, the boorish exchange student, never the princess. For the first time in her life, she has real _friends_. She has people whom she can trust other than Kurt. She's even more thankful that Brittany has sisters like them in her life to support her every endeavor. As per the blabbering and screaming going on in that video call in their bedroom, well, Santana has learned like that with Kurt, to accept them, abnormalities and all. They are friends, after all. Perhaps the Americans are right when they said, 'Birds of the same feather… _are of the same species'_. Or was it flock in droves? Nonsense. Brittany said birds can be friends with other birds too.

Brittany comes out of the bedroom as she ends the call. A scowl painted upon her face. She plops down next to a nonchalant Santana who's waiting for her to spill today's drama.

"Tina ended her engagement with Artie."

Santana's forehead creases. She puts down her tea and book on the coffee table and turns to face Brittany, resting her right arm on the sides of the couch. She urges for the blonde to continue.

"Apparently, he's been sleeping with the entire school behind her back!"

"How did Tina find out?"

"He got this annual test for his medical and he's positive for an STD!"

Santana blinks owlishly, pursing her lips.

"I know, right?" Brittany flaps her arms around with wide eyes. "He came clean with Tina yesterday afternoon. Says he contracted them from some girl he met last week he didn't know had herpes or whatever. She rushed to the hospital to get tested and thank god, she doesn't have it!"

"O-Oh wow." Santana stutters. "How is she doing?"

"Mercedes said she was inconsolable last night. Right now she's a bit more calm, just thankful that she found out sooner than later. She temporarily moved back to Bushwick and is staying in my bedroom there. They're helping her with cancelling all their prior wedding prep things they already paid for. She said they're spending Artie's half of the refunds to get as wasted as they possibly can and binge on expensive food. Celebrate her near brush with death as Sugar says." Brittany chuckles.

Santana nods but catches a bit of a bittersweet feeling behind the blonde's words.

"What is it?" She asks, resting her hand on the girl's leg.

Brittany gives out a small smile, a sad one, then shakes her head. "Nothing. I just miss them sometimes, you know. If I were there, we would have already bought a case of that cheap red wine we like and a carton of that bad champagne we still keep on buying for celebrations no matter what." The blonde chortles to herself, mind caught at the memory of it.

It must be incredibly lonely for Brittany, Santana comes to the conclusion. When she was in New York, she had Kurt with her. Unlike Brittany who doesn't have anyone from _home_ to be with her. To only get in touch with her friends or family through technology and feel empty once the line is cut.

"Perhaps we could fly them here?" Santana offers, squeezing the girl's hand.

"Oh no, it's okay. They're studying for finals. We can't really bother them right now. I'll see them soon for the wedding, anyway."

"How about your family? Would you like to fly them out?"

"That's even more of a no-go. Ever since the coverage started on us, the farm has been doing really well lately. And I mean, crazy well! They're backed up on orders and booked for supply for the next three years. I'm not even kidding. They hired help for the first time ever."

"Yes. Your father told me all about it the other day." Santana grins, tucking the blonde's stray hair behind her ear. "The media coverage was merely a catalyst. I'm glad they're finally getting the recognition for their hard work."

Brittany smiles, a hint of despair in it. "I miss all of them but everyone has something going on too. I guess we should focus on us first."

Santana nods just as a thought comes to mind. "There's this MET gala thing I have to attend in New York next month. Perhaps you'd want to be my date and come with me? You could also fix your visa and all the other things at school there that needs taking care of? We could also spend time with your friends."

Brittany's face lights up, grinning from ear to ear. "I'd love that, San!"

Santana smiles and leans in, placing a kiss on the blonde's forehead. "Speaking of which, did you know you've been here for an entire month now?"

"Really?" Brittany looks at her in incredulity, chuckling. "Is there an expiration period? Are you planning to kick me out now?"

Santana raises her an eyebrow as she smirks. "On the contrary, I wanted to ask you how you'd like to celebrate this milestone."

"A ball in my honor. A statue erected in my place beside your great grandfather's fat cat's. A village named after me. All of those or no dice."

"Noble options." She chortles. "How about a gift? I'm not particularly good at picking them out. If there's something you want, whatever it is, let me know and it will be given to you."

"God, I'm marrying such a romantic." Brittany utters in a monotone then breaks out into a laugh. She takes a deep breath as she thinks what she would want from Santana after everything that's been given to her in abundance.

"There is something that I want." The blonde trails off. Santana nods, waiting for the girl to continue. Instead, Brittany moves to climb on Santana's lap, straddling and locking her in her place.

"O-Oh." Santana finds herself losing her words as she places her hands on both sides of Brittany's waist.

"I'll think of something material-wise eventually. This just takes precedence." Brittany utters with a devilish grin on her face. She proceeds to unbutton the top part of her shirt, giving the brunette full coverage of her bare chest.

Santana gulps heavily. She loses all comprehension in her head when Brittany starts kissing her, doing wonderful things in her mouth, as if there's no tomorrow. The brunette summons all the will power in her to pull apart from the kiss but even her fiancée doesn't let up when she pulls on her sweatpants and slides a hand inside her underwear without prompt. The blonde trails kisses from her neck to her ears, eliciting goosebumps all over her body.

"I-I was actually thinking-" She sighs, trying her best to regain breathing amidst the pleasurable hurdles invading her body. When Brittany hums to motion for her to continue her thoughts, it takes an ungodly strength to continue speaking. "I-I was hoping to take you out on a proper d-date. J-Just the two of us, no security and Kurt." She whispers, shivering under the pleasant sensation of the blonde teasing her down there where she needs it most.

Brittany drops whatever she's doing and pulls away from Santana's neck to give her a confused look, complete with tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Baby, did you say 'proper date'?"

Santana nods frantically. She focuses her sight on the cerulean eyes instead of the breasts barely covered by Brittany's shirt or her fiancée straddling her or the fact that Brittany's hand is still inside her underwear.

"It occurred to me recently that I have yet to take you out on a real date."

"Huh." Brittany mutters. A small gasp escapes Santana's mouth when the blonde pulls her hand out from her sweatpants. "Are you sure we haven't gone out on a date? Like ever?"

Santana nods her head, smiling. Brittany puts her arms around Santana neck, looking up as if deep in thought.

"What about the time you brought me to the Met to look at all those paintings in the backroom?"

"It was a study date, Britt. I wouldn't consider it a _date_ date."

"And what do you consider a _date_ date then?"

"How about I show you tonight?" Santana smirks.

Brittany nods slowly, sticking out her bottom lip as if not entirely impressed. "I'm not going to lie. That was kind of smooth, babe."

"Thank you for acknowledging it."

"Dork." The blonde chuckles. She places a quick kiss on Santana's lips and takes a deep breath.

"I would agree to this first _date_ date of ours but I have a few questions first."

"Naturally." Santana nods, caressing Brittany's waist while looking up at the girl with a smile.

"Well, for one thing, how exactly are we going to go on a date with just us outside? Aren't there paparazzi people waiting?" The blonde pouts, looking down. "Besides, isn't it breaking the rules? Kurt suggested I try to stay in the Manor for now until everything cools off. I'm not particularly excited about the prospect of being scolded again."

Santana sighs. She lifts Brittany's chin and meets her gaze. "Hey," She whispers, brushing her hand on the blonde's cheek. "It's not breaking the rules because we are off the clock. We are not on the job and there is no professional courtesy to observe. Everyone is aware of that."

"B-But what if people see us? Won't they bother us? We don't have security to protect us. Will they even let us out of the grounds?"

"We aren't prisoners, Britt. We can go out whenever we want to. We could wear disguises and we'll be fine. It has worked for me a number of times before. There's lots of tourists around to camouflage us. We could even go to the park to have a picnic or just walk around whilst trying street food."

Brittany pouts, still unsure. "I just don't want to get in trouble again, San."

"I understand, babe. But we won't, alright? We'll have a perfectly normal date. Perhaps dinner and drinks, maybe stroll around. There's nothing wrong about that. If you don't want to go out, then that's alright with me too. We could stroll around the grounds and have a picnic by the gardens instead."

Santana places a chaste kiss on Brittany's lips as the latter contemplates her options. She can see how her Mother's private conversation with the girl has had a profound impact on her fiancée.

"Okay then. Let's go out tonight." Brittany utters, producing a small smile. "Can we go somewhere not fancy though? Low-key. I really like the park and street food concept you said."

"Of course. Whatever you want, sweetheart." Santana nods, grinning. "Tell you what, I'll even take you out dancing tonight after dinner. What do you say?"

The blonde nods and breaks out into that huge grin Santana hasn't seen for quite a while.

"But maybe we should tell Kurt at least?"

"No." Santana answers in a heartbeat, chuckling. "He's a drama queen and would probably panic at the thought. He'll eventually find out, anyway."

"How are we getting around with no Kurt or Pablo then? Are you allowed to drive?"

"Of course." Santana beams. "We'll take one of my cars."

Brittany shakes her head. "Low-key, baby. The minute one of those sports cars rolls around then we might as well head back home."

"You're right." Santana sighs, thinking. "Let's take Kurt's car instead. The Range Rover over the supercars is, as you say, low-key."

"Kurt owns a Range Rover?" Brittany's eyes widen. "How much does he really make and how do I get his job?"

"A lot and you'll have to kill him first. He's not going down without a fight, I assure you."

"Let's ask him for some money to buy a banged up beetle for invisibility purposes." Brittany scoffs, laughing. "Wait. What if we get mobbed or robbed?"

"I'll protect you. Your fiancée is well trained to defend you and is also in the army, remember?" She winks, letting her hands roam around Brittany's body again.

"O-Okay. So, a secret date night with you tonight then." The blonde croaks out when Santana starts attacking her neck. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but we're literally going to pull a Princess Jasmine to escape the Palace grounds by stealing someone's car."

Santana laughs. "It can wait for a while." She whispers and carefully flips their positions with the blonde sitting on the couch. Santana kneels on the floor facing Brittany with hungry eyes as she pulls on the dancer's shorts, focusing on all the ways to make her come undone.

* * *

Brittany doesn't remember the last time she enjoyed being outside. Or in her case, cherished seeing civilians who pay her no mind. With how much she's enjoyed spoiling herself with all the sleeping, eating, and walking today, she fears she's on her way into becoming a Corgi.

She had no idea she's been in Spain for an entire month now. A lot of things have happened and she's lost track of time. Frankly, her days and months have been scheduled into bullet and numbering forms down to the smallest detail. Her interactions with people are mostly limited to the household and its employees. The places outside the Palace grounds that she's been in can be counted with one hand.

She doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. She doesn't want to think too much of it, really. But sometimes, she feels like a prisoner. A bird in a cage. She understands that they need to avoid public places or people in general. She understands that certain protocols or rules are observed. But a part of her, taking over her thoughts more and more, feels trapped.

In New York, back when Santana was just Rosario, they had the freedom to do whatever it is that they wanted. If they wanted to have tacos, they could stroll down the street and find one themselves. If they wanted a drink, they could stay at Ken's and hang out. If they wanted to kiss each other in public or hold hands while walking down the street, no one would give a rat's ass. Out here, they can't. They could never.

There are those intrusive thoughts every now and then. The need to run away. The desire to leave in the middle of the night. She gets it now. Why Santana wanted to escape her life here and be a stranger in a foreign country. Why Santana was embittered with her life here. She can't blame the brunette. A month into her stay and she's already beginning to be fed up with everything for some unknown reason to her. She could only imagine how Santana must feel having to be born into this, growing up and knowing there's no escape.

For a brief change, Brittany can only feel happiness right now. With her hair up in a pony while wearing a Yankees baseball cap, dark sunglasses on, and a sweater with a map of Spain sprawled on it, she and Santana, who's similarly sporting the same ensemble, could very well be mistaken as tourists and none would be the wiser.

She looks around the park overflowing with people. Most of them taking photos of themselves amidst a backdrop of landmarks. Some having picnics with their loved ones. On certain areas of the park are food kiosks and carts catering to the masses. It is in all this simplicity, Brittany finds bliss in strolling around the park with Santana like a regular person. One hand intertwined with the brunette's, the other holding tight to the best cinnamon churro she's ever had in her life.

"Where did you go to high school then? Or is that not a thing?" She asks, glancing at Santana who's in the middle of sipping lemonade through a straw.

They have been at this for a few minutes now. Brittany asking Santana about the many things she has always wondered about the brunette and vice versa.

"I went to a boarding school in Switzerland. It's like high school but we stayed in dorms until the semester ended."

"What's that like?"

"It was nice, to some extent. It was the first time I was left alone to my devices. Most of the students were from prominent and rich families all over the world. My roommate was the daughter of the President of Germany. But she was alright unlike the other haughty ones. A bit too studious."

"That must have been fun." Brittany grins. "A bunch of teenagers alone in a secluded place with all the resources in the world. I bet you had wild parties in the dorms."

Santana chuckles. "Not at all. The administrators were very strict. The schoolwork was heavy and difficult. The school only allowed us to travel to town once a month and even then we were heavily guarded by security. The wildest thing that happened during my stay there was an underground party where twin brothers made their own strain of marijuana then made Four Horsemen cocktails mixed with some cocaine. I didn't dare try it for fear of my life but the party got so out of hand, the police were called."

"That's a normal high school party, alright." Brittany laughs. "Were you popular?"

"A little bit. It mostly came from the fact that I'm a princess by title but other than that I mostly kept to myself. I joined a few sports, of course. I was friends with most of the people but I never belonged to a stereotypical clique."

"No one made a move on you up in the alps?"

"A few guys and confused girls, I guess. It's boarding school, babe. I think everyone was on the 'gay scale'." Santana chortles. "But no, I didn't reciprocate at all. I would show fake mild interest with the boys for the fun of it until they grew tired of trying. I was, as you said, low-key." Santana smiles then says, "How about you? Were you popular in high school?"

"I was." She says without missing a beat. "I was a cheerleader. So, I was friends with the jocks and other girls from the cheer team. I won prom queen too both on my junior and senior year, so that's partly why, I guess."

"Shocker." The brunette quips, earning a slap on the arm. Santana responds with intertwining their hands again and placing a kiss on top of Brittany's hand. She follows, "Did you date anyone?"

"I dated the quarterback for a short while during my senior year. He was a jerk and bullied all the gay kids which is why I broke up with him. At least, that's my personal semi-truth reason. I told everyone else that we were graduating so what's the point of bothering with the relationship."

Santana nods. "It must be difficult growing up in a small-town. It would have been terrible for you if they found out."

Brittany's thoughts drift back to those trying times of hiding herself in the closet in high school. At every single turn of wanting to kiss a girl, she would regress by grabbing the nearest jock and make out with them to front. Every time she convinced herself that this was the day, today she would tell her parents she's gay, she would back out at the last minute and cut herself off mid-conversation with them to say something ridiculous instead. Every time she told herself she couldn't hide anymore, she would witness her so-called friends bullying a gay kid mercilessly until they had to transfer. With every time she would take a step forward, she took two steps back the next. She was so far inside the closet, she was sure she found Narnia at one point or another.

"I guess. I was really scared so I had this plan of getting out of Savannah first before I ever thought of coming out. At least then I would be away from it all. When I received my acceptance letter from NYU I never looked back. I only got the guts to come out when you came home with me." She squeezes Santana's hand, smiling. "How did you tell your family, by the way?"

"I came out multiple times, actually. The first time I told them was when I was sixteen. I've been struggling with it since I was thirteen, I think. I haven't really acted on it but I knew that I was gay. I remember fondly that it was the week before I was due to return to boarding school in Switzerland." Santana gives out a small smile at the memory. "It was during dinner and I was so scared that I just blurted it out. They were in disbelief at first. It's just a phase! You haven't found the right boy yet! You're too young to know what you want! You know, the usual shenanigans. So, I kept it to myself because I had to."

The brunette continues. "Then I told them again a few months later that I'm still gay, more sure now. They had the same reaction, a bit angrier this time. Then I told them again when I turned seventeen, a bit of frustration in me when they still won't accept it. By that time, they were just sad about it. They couldn't grasp the thought of their little girl as a lesbian. Finally, the last time was on my eighteenth birthday. I told them that I am gay and I don't care if they couldn't accept it. I am who I am. It's enough to have that internal battle and acceptance within yourself. Tolerance would be my best bet. And that's what I was given. It was an uphill climb. They wouldn't talk to me at first. Out of sight, out of mind."

Brittany glances at a despondent Santana. She's never been the best in comforting people. She tugs on their hands and pulls the girl closer to her for a kiss on the cheek. It proves to be effective when Santana produces that genuine smile she's fond of.

Brittany takes a bite of her cinnamon churro. After swallowing, she says, "How about college? Did you go to college?"

"I did. In Europe, we call them university. College is like a preparatory to university for us." Brittany nods in understanding. The princess continues, "I went to Oxford University in England. Although I did an exchange student semester thing in Paris as a punishment for media blunders due to partying. I majored in Art History."

"Shocker." Brittany repeats Santana's words much to the latter's amusement. "So, the paparazzi followed you to England?"

"They are always everywhere. More so there. What with William and Henry around. I mean, they are distant relatives and I do have a close relationship with them ever since childhood, like the big brothers I never had. But I suppose the media aren't so keen on platonic relationships or they just like to stir up ridiculous things."

"Then why not choose somewhere else? Like I don't know, Monaco?"

"Because England is a good venue to practice my English and Oxford has a good art program. It's also a two and a half hour flight from there to here. My parents thought it was perfect since I've been away for most of my teenage years in boarding school."

"I see. Maybe that's why you and your family sound British when you talk in English sometimes. I've always wondered about that." Brittany nods to herself. "When did you get into the military then?"

Santana looks up, thinking. "A few weeks after boarding school. I was eighteen. I decided to take a gap year and focus on that and other charity causes. I stayed on with my battalion for seven months."

"I see. And that's how you met Pablo, right?"

"Yes. He was in the same trainee class as I was. He's always been the polite and formal man. We weren't friends at first because he's really quiet. All I know was he used to be in soap operas. We got to know each other when he saved my life by pushing me out of the way of a landmine. We became friends after that."

Brittany's eyes widen. "Oh wow. That went dark fast." She chuckles. "Is that why you were only there for seven months?"

"No. The media got wind of where I was to be assigned in the field. So, Bourbon House had no choice but to extract me as soon as possible for my safety."

"They ruin everything." She pouts. "How did you get around university without anyone knowing who you are then? They must have heard there's a princess in school."

"Code names." Santana grins. Brittany squints her eyes at her. "We have assigned false names that others use when we're at school or work."

"What? I didn't know that. What name do you use?"

"Marie Lopez."

Brittany raises an eyebrow. "And that works? People just call you 'Marie'?"

Santana nods. "It's what I've been using since boarding school. I mean, everyone knew who I was but if you're an outsider, I was just 'Marie Lopez', daughter of a prominent real estate developer couple. In _uni_ too. Only my uni friends and those in the same circle were privy to who I am. It's what I use at work at the Museum and in hotels too."

"But doesn't that fail when they recognize you?"

"Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. As long as I don't show my face then I'm just 'Marie Lopez'."

"Does Diego have one too?"

"Yes. His is 'Bruce Kent."

Brittany blinks. Batman and Superman? How Diego.

"I want a code name too!" She grins widely.

They come across a stall selling Spain memorabilia and on the side, off-brand and bootleg looking posters of her and Santana. She lets go of the brunette's hand and walks over to the kiosk. Headshots of them with the eyes cut out and tied to what seems to be a ping pong handle are on the table. A few pictures of them, some photoshopped, at their engagement announcement and the parade with a WordArt text of ' _Bienvenido a Madrid_ ' at the bottom also join the lot. A life-sized photo standee of them at their engagement announcement is situated beside the stall. A few people take selfies with it while some buy the headshots and pretend to be them as they lean over to the standee.

Brittany laughs at the sight. She looks behind her to see Santana horrified and amused at the same time.

"I want one." She says, pointing to a random merchandise.

"What? Why?" Santana gives her an incredulous look.

"It's funny and ironic! Or is it un-ironic?"

"Baby, I'm not even sure if this is legal."

It proves too late when Brittany skips to the kiosk. The stall owner not recognizing the blonde at all even after she absent-mindedly takes out her sunglasses to survey the goods. She giddily goes back to where Santana is, carrying cut-out headshots of themselves, grinning from ear to ear.

"Come on, let's take a picture with _us_!" She gestures to their standee.

"No! Britt, we shouldn't." Santana chuckles.

"Oh, right." Brittany mumbles under her breath, looking around the crowd. "We might get mobbed if they recognize us." She pushes her shades back and pouts at Santana's direction.

The brunette purses her lips with a solemn expression at Brittany. Santana looks around the park, glancing around the people with a scrutinizing eye. Brittany notes a split-second uneasiness in the girl. The previous carefree nature disappearing in the snap of a finger.

"Okay." Santana takes a deep breath, one of mirth exasperation. "Let's go take a picture with 'us'. If the owner didn't recognize you, we'll be fine. Let's make a run for it, if they do."

Brittany's eyes widen. "Really?"

Santana nods in a defeated manner but grins nonetheless. Brittany jumps for joy and places a chaste kiss on her fiancée's lips. She drags the brunette to the standee once the people around it walk away. She wears Santana's cutout headshot with the brunette wearing hers as they take a selfie side by side the life-size standee. Santana can't help but laugh when Brittany asks her to take a couple of pictures of just the blonde appearing to lust over her standee.

Shortly, they grow tired of walking around the park and trying every single street food around. They didn't realize it's already past six when they get into Kurt's car and just drive around town, exchanging stories and Santana stopping at various spots to point out landmarks and places she frequents with Kurt.

For all it's worth, Brittany is having the time of her life. It's been a while she's felt this uninhibited. She doesn't remember the last time she's out in public with no security around. It's liberating. It's refreshing. She doesn't remember Santana laughing this much since she left New York. A part of her wishes that their life could always be this simple.

Santana honors her promise of taking Brittany dancing. In Brittany's mind, it would just be one of those normal clubs or even a restaurant with salsa music. Instead, the brunette turns to a corner leading to an exclusive club of sorts. The line to the entrance is so long, it rounded the corner. A few luxury cars pull up right at the doors where rich-looking folks enter without regard to the people waiting to get in.

A slight fear takes over Brittany when she realizes there's no hiding in there. No caps. No shades. No camouflage in a crowd. Only semi-darkness and strobe lights. If she were to think about it, a club like this would mean that she would be mingling with people in Santana's circle or her stature. People will know who they are. A part of her is terrified of being ousted in conversations she won't understand, shunned by people in Santana's life. And it's fine, she supposes. They can't go to dive bars or a run-of-the-mill club for safety purposes, anyway.

"You don't like it here, do you?" Santana's voice takes her off her trance. She peers at the brunette in the driver's seat, taking in the girl's worry.

"N-No, it's okay. I'm just wondering if photographers are lurking around."

Santana blinks, as if realizing something. "You're right."

"I'm right what?" Brittany's eyebrows scrunch up together.

Santana only grins at her as they pass by the VIP club. "My so-called 'friends' will be there anyway. I'd rather go somewhere else and keep you to myself some more."

They arrive at what looks to be a small club of sorts. A dive bar looking place. Nowhere near as posh as the one a while ago. So ordinary. No line yet. No luxury cars. Just one bouncer and a receptionist at the front door. They park by the sidewalk, a few feet from the entrance. Like the gentlewoman her fiancée she is, Santana opens the door for her and leads them to the doors where they are greeted without second looks.

It makes Brittany laugh how they can't seem to be recognized in public at all. It's not as if anyone would mistake two women dressed in the most casual tourist-y attire entering an ordinary nightclub where everyone is dressed to the nines as the royal couple anyway.

The club is packed and noisy as one should be. Countless tables and corner booths surround the massive dance floor in front of a small stage with performers and musicians on it. The dance floor filled with mostly pairs dancing in a rhythm not usually seen with wasted beyond saving individuals. It takes her a moment or two to take it all in. When the music registers her ears, she realizes what this place actually is.

"You brought me to a Salsa bar!" Brittany exclaims with a squeal, jumping up and down. "I've never been to one!"

"I know, Britt." Santana says, placing a kiss on Brittany's lips and dragging her fiancée to the dance floor.

They alternated between grabbing drinks from the bar and dancing like there's no tomorrow. Massively flirting with each other. Laughing at drunken gaffes. Having eyes only for each other. PDA on the dance floor that no one cares about. They revel in the anonymity of it all. So carefree. So elated of being stripped down from all the glamour.

That is until they get their third or was it fourth drink now? They've been here for barely two hours. The club is overflowing. The music has become louder for some reason. People among the crowd are dry humping each other. Even Brittany's seeing twin bartenders in front of her as she laughs about something she's not sure of with her fiancée.

"Santana?" A man utters just enough for them to hear, somewhere around the couple. It's a voice Brittany hasn't heard before.

Santana looks at her right, at the person next to Brittany, then pauses. The drunken nature magically stripped off. Brittany follows her gaze. It falls on a man. One who, judging by his looks, spends his entire day at the gym, sports only the best fashion has to offer, and has an air of self-importance and money around him.

"Luis." Santana greets in a tone Brittany's not familiar of. A hint of indifference, maybe. The brunette glances around them with worry, as if expecting trouble any second now.

This Luis guy smirks in a suave, creepy way, sliding closer over to them. It makes the blonde move to Santana's other side out of awkwardness.

"You must be Brittany. Santana never told her friends she is into women too. We all want to meet you." He drawls out the words in a thick accent, looking over the blonde that makes Brittany want to cover up herself with a hundred duvets.

He asks Santana something in Spanish, gesturing to the club. The brunette replies and slips on a bit of English by saying "for a change" followed with some Spanish until she arrives to "How about you? Why are you here instead of…" then points to nothing in particular but Brittany supposes it to be the posh club from a while ago.

Luis grins devilishly, shrugging. He retorts with a few words while eyeing a few women who are also giving him a once over. Every time Santana responds in English, Fuck Boy would reply in Spanish on purpose. As if specifically keeping out Brittany from the conversation.

By now, Brittany just gave up on listening. She focuses on her sweet, sugary drink instead. Their conversation doesn't last for more than two minutes, ending with Luis telling Santana to "hang out with us" followed by a harsh oppressive glance at Brittany before answering a phone call all while scurrying to follow a random woman at the same time.

"You okay?" Brittany says, practically slurring out the words.

"Yes." Santana sighs, taking a hefty sip of her own drink. "Luis and I are in the same circle of friends."

"I see. You don't seem so happy to see him."

"I wasn't expecting him to be here. They prefer places where they will be photographed. He's just a pathetic trust fund scumbag."

"I can tell." Brittany chuckles. "Why are you friends with them then?"

"I don't know, really. They only get chummy with me when they need something. There have been times they have ratted me out to the media, made up stories about me."

A sullen expression takes over Santana's features. It must be lonely for the brunette. Being surrounded by people who wouldn't want anything to do with her other than benefiting from the perks of being a princess grants. When Brittany first met Diego, she remembers him saying that people usually claim to be his or Santana's friend for whatever purpose it may serve them. It must really serve them well, alright.

Brittany purses her lips, taking a deep breath. She pulls the brunette for a deep kiss and drags her to the dance floor where she proceeds to do her best to lift Santana's spirits up.

They decide to call it a night a little over midnight. Still laughing for no apparent reason. A bit too tipsy for their own liking. Jaws hurting from smiling too much. They head to the exit hand in hand with wobbly legs to spare, deciding to just hail a cab or Spanish Uber.

From a distance, they see a line formed by the entrance with patrons waiting for their turn to have a fun night out in the salsa club. Santana tugs on Brittany's hand, catching the latter's attention. Brittany looks at the brunette and takes in the radiance emanating from the girl's features. It's happiness she hasn't seen from her in a while. Ever since New York, to be exact.

Free. Unrestrained. Tranquil. For the past month, she thought she was the only one feeling caged under the microscope with all the attention. Perhaps they really needed this release. To feel like a commoner once in a while. To be normal.

In a way, she knew Santana was on a mission to cheer her up following her talk with the Queen a few days ago. It proved to be more than effective since she hasn't thought about it for one bit. She could only feel overwhelming affection for her fiancée and how wonderful the brunette has been to her throughout all this.

Brittany grins back. None of them saying the unspoken words they already know. Santana pulls the blonde towards her, placing her hold on the dancer by the waist. Brittany welcomes the gesture, leaning closer to Santana's embrace and placing a kiss on the princess's plump lips.

A barrage of flashing lights cut their moment as they reach the exit. Brittany breaks the kiss and is immediately blinded by the brightness coming from every direction. The shouting paparazzi renders her mute and deaf. Catatonic, even. The previous anxiety and erratic heart beating come back again as she finds herself in this all-too familiar situation. All of which sobers her up in an instant. A horde of men in suits comes out of nowhere to shield them from the cameras. She barely registers what's happening before she finds herself being dragged by Santana's tight grip on her hand towards somewhere she couldn't really see.

She lowers her head, fixing her gaze firmly at the ground. She ignores the several cameras practically shoved in front of her face. She looks up briefly to see the paparazzi blocking their way. Some of them spewing words at a glum Santana who disregards their presence as she leads them to what seems to be the opposite direction of where they parked their car a while ago.

Brittany doesn't get a chance to react. Santana places a hand on her back and gently leads her to a familiar Rolls Royce by the pavement. The Princess opens the backseat door and ushers her to get in, blocking the paparazzi's view of them as she does what she's told.

"I'll be right behind you, Britt." Santana whispers just enough for her to hear then smiles. Not the previous carefree one back at the club. Or the park. A defeated one this time.

Before she could reply, the door shuts. The blinds placed on the side windows block the flashing lights outside. She blinks. Everything happened so fast she barely had time to register all that transpired in the past minute. And for what seems like forever, she remembers to breathe. The car starts to pull out of the side and into the driveway.

" _Hola._ " A voice utters beside her. It makes her jump in surprise. She looks to her left and sees Kurt staring at her. "A little jumpy, are we?" He adds, smiling.

"S-Sorry. I thought I was alone." She says. She takes this time to take in everything else. Aside from Kurt, she can see Pablo in the driver's seat through the small awning of the divider. She glances behind her and notices a few of the men with cameras dumbly follow them as if their feet could catch up or they could take a clear shot with the blinds blocking the side windows. Further, she sees Kurt's black Range Rover trekking towards the opposite side being hounded as well. Identical black Land Rovers each follow her limo and Kurt's Range Rover for security purposes.

Her mind runs a hundred miles per hour with the way she's exerting all her efforts to answer questions she hasn't even constructed yet. Before she addresses them though, Kurt beats her to it.

"You really can't disappear without anyone knowing." He says, offering a small smile. "The minute you got through the gates, I was notified. The head of security was notified too. As much as it's a violation of you or Santana's privacy, we have trackers on her cars and mine. On both of your phones. The same protocol applies to everyone in the family. I don't like it too but it's for both of your safety."

Brittany's shoulders fall. Kurt takes a deep breath, noticing the sullen change in the blonde's body language. He reaches for a water bottle and hands it to Brittany.

"I had an inkling that you two were aiming for a secret date night so I had the security back off at once. Pablo and I followed you both around as stealthily as we could instead. We were lurking at the park, just trailing behind and munching on street food too. We thought it was funny no one recognized you two at all."

"Did Santana know?" She speaks up, eyes darting to the ground.

Kurt nods. "She always does. She's adept at spotting us in the shadows. That's why she wasn't worried that much about being recognized since there's always an exit strategy if mobbing or a pap attack like earlier ensues."

Now Santana's earlier out-of-left-field behavior of rolling her eyes at someone in the distance makes sense. As is the brunette's immediate shift from being relaxed to a tad reserved whenever she looked around their surroundings every now and then.

"A-And at the club? You and Pablo were there too?"

He smiles, crossing his legs. "Yes. Admittedly, it was a surprise you went to a salsa club. Santana usually goes to upscale clubs with her friends. So, it was nice to see her come out of her comfort zone like that. Pablo and I loved it too, by the way. My dance moves blew his out of the water." He chuckles.

Brittany remains motionless. She sighs and meets Kurt's stare. "How did you know we were going to be mobbed? You seemed to be ready by the time we exited the club." She gestures back to where they came from with her thumb.

"Luis." He says. "Santana's friends have, well," He pauses. "Let's just say that Santana's friends don't have the best track record when it comes to loyalty. Or to put it simply, not blabbing to the _paps_ about Santana's whereabouts and whatever shallow secrets she told them." He shakes his head. "When we saw him, we knew he was trouble so we called for back-up immediately."

A crease forms on Brittany's forehead. "Santana knew all this and she didn't tell me?"

"I can't speak for her but I don't think she wanted you to worry. She didn't know about the paps waiting outside but she knew where the limos are always waiting and the security coming to your aid if need be."

Brittany hangs her head low. She relaxes against her seat and lets her head fall onto the headrest, closing her eyes. She knew it was too good to be true.

"Britt," Kurt starts with almost a whisper. She glances at him, meeting his pitiful gaze at her. "I won't pretend to feel what you feel. I can see the last couple of days took a toll on you. I mean, I'm not used to seeing you like this." He grabs her hand and squeezes it, offering a smile to boot. "This is the life you will be leading for the rest of time with Santana. I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to who's not her, I'm always here."

Brittany offers a smile. It's all she could possibly bring herself to feel right now anyway. She can't say she's disappointed. Or mad. Or happy. No. Indifferent is the proper way to put it. She never thought that following her heart for the first time in her life could make her feel so alone. She loves Santana with all her heart, of course. But sometimes she wishes that having the brunette didn't come with this restraining life. She wishes it was simpler than this.

She looks back at what she gave up in New York and what she gained here in Spain. All the unrelenting media coverage, barrage of paparazzi attacks, no control of her life as it seems. No freedom. A loss of a big part of her identity, so to speak.

In New York, she'd be with her friends laughing about being broke and the uncertainty of her future. She may have botched her audition with her dream dance company but it doesn't mean she couldn't try with other ones and eventually get in. She could be enjoying a pretzel in her favorite cart a block away from school right now. She could be rehearsing for the troupe's next performance. She could be dancing again. She could be happy and smiling and free and just be Brittany Pierce.

It makes her wonder, makes her question herself for the first time she moved here to be with Santana: _Is love still worth it when everything else in her life is falling apart?_

* * *

 **Drop a review, please? I need the motivation :D**


	20. Chapter 20

**I have no words except that the next chapter will be longer than the 11.5k words in this chap.**

* * *

Santana wakes at the muffled sound of powerful gushes of air coming from the bathroom.

She opens her eyes and is met with crumpled up sheets in place of her sleeping fiancée under it. She blinks and takes a deep breath, glancing at the nearby clock on the nightstand to see that it's barely six in the morning. She lies on her back to face the painted ceiling and waits for the blonde to finish what is now her usual morning routine.

The gushing sound stops. Brittany comes out of the bathroom and heads for the mirror, combing her hair dressed in casual shirt and jeans. Santana watches in silence as the woman goes about her task, getting herself ready while humming in low tones what the brunette is sure to be one of those signature catchy telenovela opening songs to herself.

"You know, sweetheart, I'm beginning to wonder whether you're really my fiancée or an alien who has taken on her form. The real Brittany would still be snoring right now." Santana mutters, perching her head on top of her hand. Brittany looks at her from the reflection and grins.

"And what would be my mission on Earth if I were an alien?"

"To get me into bed, of course." Santana smirks. The blonde rolls her eyes and walks over to her, giving her a kiss.

" _Buenos dias_ , San."

" _Buenos dias_." Santana retorts, deepening the kiss. She removes the covers to unveil her bare body, bent on keeping her fiancée a bit more to herself. Brittany appears to give in but pulls apart from the kiss at the last second, earning a groan from her.

"No." Santana pouts. "See? The real Brittany would never pass up on this kind of chance."

Brittany chuckles, tucking a stray hair behind Santana's ear. "I'm sorry, babe. But I have to go in five minutes."

"Ah, the mystery expedition you go to almost every morning."

"I told you, I stroll around the shrubberies and do some planting and digging as I learn Spanish."

"Sure, Dora the Explorer." Santana chuckles, rising from the bed and getting dressed. "I'm still curious what it is you do and where you go, you know. As your future wife, I demand to know about this horrid interruption to what is supposed to be a pleasurable morning."

"Well, it's not as if we tell each other everything, anyway."

Santana freezes in her spot, aware of the implication of the offhand comment. She glances at the blonde mindlessly doing her skin care routine by the mirror, unthinking of the slip into what's on her mind.

It's been almost two weeks since the pap attack at the salsa bar.

Santana knew from the moment she saw Luis that it spelled trouble. Right away, she searched for Kurt among the patrons where he's usually to be seen poorly disguising himself along with Pablo. With a simple eye contact and nod, they both knew what was going to happen once they step outside of the establishment. Back-up would be called. The cars will be waiting for them as soon as they exit. They would be separated and taken to different routes on the way home. The protocol is to be followed, as always.

It's almost second nature to her now. Even if someone put a blindfold in her, she'd be able to guide herself towards the Rolls Royce or the Rovers lying in wait. What she didn't account for is Brittany's reaction towards the whole thing.

Since that night, the blonde has become a bit closed-off. Wary. Santana knows, to some extent, that Brittany was caught off-guard about it. She's never seen the dancer so blank and scared since they have known each other during that moment when the photographers came from all sides to ambush them. Only she did not think too much about it until after a day or two. Brittany has even yet to bring up the topic or discuss it with Santana. The brunette has wanted to talk to her about it since her realization but as the days passed, the awkwardness of bringing it up came into fact. This off-hand comment is the first time either of them said anything about what happened.

Santana regards Brittany. She takes a breath or two and gauges how she should handle the situation. She's never been in this particular dilemma before with someone. Let alone have this problem at all. She could go on the defense like she always does which unsurprisingly almost always makes the problem bigger. Or she could approach this with care and see how it goes. She's used to being alone with only having her feelings and reactions to stimuli to consider. And now that she's in a relationship, nay, _engaged_ to be married to someone, she realizes that considering the other's feelings take precedence before her. That Brittany comes first.

"Perhaps we should address the- uh- _Como se dice..._ " Santana whispers to herself, forgetting that wretched phrase. "the fat American cartoon animal that flies using their big ears?"

Brittany turns and stares at her, perplexed at first. "Dumbo?"

" _Si, si!_ Dumbo!" Santana nods with a serious expression. "We should address his kind in this room."

Brittany chuckles. "I'm willing to look past the fact that you called Dumbo 'fat', you bodyshamer. It's not his fault he was born chunky."

Santana throws the blonde a look. "Britt?"

Brittany takes a deep breath, acknowledging the change of tone in the conversation and what the brunette is trying to do. She faces her and says in a soft voice, "Okay. Which part of the 'Dumbo' in the room would you like to talk about?"

"We could start with what you said about secrets. Is that how you feel?"

Brittany glances down for a brief second. "Not really. I know there aren't secrets between us. I don't even know why I said that." She says. "I'm sorry for saying that, San. I didn't mean to."

"Are you nervous about meeting the rest of the family tomorrow for dinner? Is that it?"

"No, not at all. It just slipped out of frustration, I guess."

"I see." Santana nods, approaching the blonde. "And what are you really frustrated about?"

"Just-" The blonde takes a deep breath. "A lot of things. Everything? I don't know. I've been here for a while now and I'm starting to wonder if this country hates me. I mean, I love Spain. But why can't it love me back?"

Santana smiles, rubbing the girl's shoulder. "Britt, you've been here a little over a month. It takes time."

"That's what everyone keeps saying, San. It's not an excuse." Brittany throws her hands up. "That's the thing, I've been here for that long already and I've yet to make progress. It's never ending scandals, gossips, camera flashes, and whole lot more I can't say without swearing. It's as if everywhere I look, God is out to fetch me because all I see is a white light shining upon me from all angles. I can't make a move in public without anyone saying anything about it or all those paparazzi swarming us or those men in black breathing down my neck as if they're saving me from the next apocalypse even if there's no threat. Even having a decent date night with you is impossible. I'm pretty sure my breathing alone annoys the Queen."

Santana remains motionless, speechless. "I-I'm sorry, Britt. I didn't know you feel this way."

Brittany bites her lip. "It's not your fault, San. I'm sorry. This is all me. Maybe I take much longer than most to adjust. Sometimes I crave for those simple times. Sometimes I just want to be me, just be normal, if that makes sense."

"It does, Britt. It does." Santana responds. "But we have to work on this together, alright? Your problems are my problems too. How can the House make it better for you?"

Brittany shrugs in defeat.

Santana tries to speak but realizes that she doesn't have the words to convey how she feels about this or comfort Brittany in times like this. She gathers that perhaps she's not equipped to give advice because this is the only life she's ever known.

Santana purses her lips, grasping on straws. "W-Well, we could start with security. You're right about them smothering us. We could cut that down a bit. I'll have Pablo be in charge of your security and the only one assigned to you except in public events. A-And perhaps we could arrange a little vacation somewhere in France or Italy since you've always wanted to go there. How about that for a start?"

She's met with a brief silence, then Brittany nods. "Thank you, San. I think that would help a lot. I'll try harder too, I promise." Brittany sighs, glancing at her wristwatch. "Oh, now I really have to go. I'll see you in an hour for breakfast, _vale_?" She gives Santana a kiss on the lips then bolts out the door in a hurry.

Santana knows it. Even with the subtlest of gestures, she sees through it. The near defeat weakening Brittany's belief in herself. The helplessness eating up every fiber of the blonde's being. She knows that the public aspect is the least of their problems. She feels as if Brittany is slowly slipping away even if she remains in the same place. It goes deeper and she's afraid that she can't do anything about it anymore. That she's too late.

* * *

Balls and royal parties always seem so magical and spectacular in the movies.

Everyone is always dressed impeccably. Only the highest quality and the best of food is served, sometimes in every cuisine you can think of. Broad conversations ranging deep topics of politics to history to current events amidst a backdrop of romantic jazz or classical music. And of course, there's always ridiculously good looking royal people everywhere you look with their accents and charming smiles and pearly white teeth that are brighter than your future.

The reality is much, _much_ different.

Everyone's outfits of dresses and suits and accessories are impeccable, yes. But only if it weren't weird, as least for Brittany, to wear them for a simple dinner with family. Take one of Santana's _Tias_ who could quite literally clutch her pearls in surprise if she so warrants. The food and drinks are amazing, that much she can admit. She even ate what looked like a hybrid of caviar teriyaki thing or whatever it was that definitely made her think twice if she really was hungry to risk her life that much.

She wishes she could say that everyone was in the vein of CW-levels of good-looking. As much as she likes to see the good in people and compliment them for being true to themselves and their faces, some are definitely graced with beauty than others. In fact, one thing she can observe in Santana's family – the King, Queen, Santana, and Diego – is that they are in a league of their own comparable to the others. They are _beautiful_. Ridiculously at that and they're not even trying among family.

As much as she likes jazz or classical music, one has a threshold to such. Especially if the playlist has gone through the whole repertoire of Bach and Mozart and Chopin and Beethoven and other names she wouldn't be able to pronounce nor spell. She would kill for some Kendrick or Beyoncé right now. She would swap her firstborn - if she ever decides to have children in the future but for now she's settled with sacrificing one of her best friends instead - just to hear a Spice Girls song to regain her sanity in her boredom. With this and the awfully mundane assorted conversations happening around her right now, one of which, if she's not mistaken, is about the comparison of the sturdiness of modern furniture and antiques between Santana's aunts, Brittany's pretty sure she saw the insides of her esophagus with how hard her eyes have rolled involuntarily.

All of these thoughts and dinner has yet to begun. Everyone has just been seated in this humongous dining hall when one of the staff whisks Santana away for a quick while regarding an official business matter. The King and Queen have yet to make their entrance. Drinks and tapas have just been served. Santana's family make it seem like she's some kind of patient zero with all their staring without even attempting to have a conversation with her. Nothing like such a warm welcome. So, yeah. All in all, it's been great. The nightmare is yet to start. Wonderful.

"Brittany." A young man's voice whispers somewhere around her.

Brittany blinks, awakened from her internal slumber. She looks around the vast dining room, which by her calculations is twice as big as one of the dancing studios in Tisch, and Santana's close relatives all around the room. She glances at her right and sees Diego approaching her with a bright boyish smile and wearing a suit.

"Is this seat taken?" Diego asks her, the mix of British and Spanish accent blending beautifully, pointing to the vacant seat beside the blonde.

She's come to know since that almost everyone has a British accent when speaking in English in Santana's family, more so apparent now with her fiancée ever since they've been back in Spain.

Brittany shakes her head, fast enough to give her whiplash.

"May I?"

"Oh, please. Go ahead. _Please_." She gestures to the seat, grateful for the company.

Diego laughs. He unbuttons his suit jacket as he sits, surveying the indifference of the other occupants of the dining room to Brittany's presence. "I see the welcome caravan is anything but."

"I wouldn't hold it against them. I am a stranger to a family event."

"The family event which is yours and Santana's pre-engagement party for the family. You're practically a member at this point and should be the co-star of the show." Diego raises an eyebrow. "Speaking of which, why are you alone here? _Donde esta_ Santana?"

"She was here a minute ago. One of the staff excused her for a while. I'm not sure, really. There was a lot of Spanish."

They settle in a comfortable silence. The classical song playing in the background. People drinking their tea. The lot of them having their respective hush hush conversations.

Diego sighs, breaking the silence, and says, "This is _so_ boring."

Brittany glances at him and they both break into laughter at the same time. A few of the relatives take a curious peek at them then go back as they were.

"I'm not saying your pre-engagement party is boring. What I'm saying is _they_ ," He gestures to his relatives. "are boring."

"It's okay. I get what you're saying." Brittany bites her lip to stifle her chuckling. "Is this kind of ambience a normal staple in every get together?"

"Yes, more or less. That's why it's wonderful to have people as judgmental as my sister and Kurt to have by your side at times like these. Don't tell anyone but we make fun of everyone in secret."

Brittany squints her eyes at him. He smirks and leans closer to her.

"You see, there are stages to these happenings, Brittany." He says in a low voice, just enough for the blonde to hear. "Notice how no one has yet to approach you?"

Brittany surveys the room. It's quite true. Nobody has spoken to her so far aside from Santana and Diego. Kurt is nowhere to be found as well. In fact, in the few minutes Santana was whisked away, their relatives have either given her the once over with their snobbish demeanors from afar or just plain ignored her. She nods at Diego.

"That's because they hate your guts."

"Oh, cool. Thanks for the support and validation. Much appreciated, little brother." She smirks.

He laughs. "As much as they like to suck up to Santana or our family in general, they hate that she is happy and getting married. On top of that, she will become Queen sooner than they expected. They abhor the fact that she's the center of the country's attention because of the engagement. They especially hate that everyone in this country adores you. If there was going to be an addition to the family, they would hope as much that there was something to pick on or be critical about but there's nothing at all." He pauses and shrugs. "Well, maybe only the fact that you're American. Being gay or your being a commoner comes as an afterthought to them."

"Why- What is it with everyone and my being American? I don't get it." Brittany utters in amusement.

"A lot. Dozens of factors. For one thing, some Americans put ranch dressing on everything or have pineapples on pizza. The blasphemy." Diego emphasizes, both of them chuckling.

"So, what you're saying is that basically, royal or not, your family is like a normal extended family then." Brittany says. "Throw in some racism and sexism or every other '-ism' in the book and you can call it a day."

"Oh, that comes during dinner." He nods his head. "If you ask me, that's where, as you Americans phrase it, the shit hits the fan."

A waiter passes by them with hors d'oeuvres. He offers Brittany a glass of champagne which she accepts and Diego some gazpacho.

"During appetizers, everyone is still friendly and amiable with each other. Regaling in old stories or catching up with new tales, mostly funny ones. Although it becomes blood-boiling when it steers to discriminatory topics, if you know what I mean." He gives her a look. She nods as she takes a sip of her drink.

"When the main entrée comes though, the conversations steer to the main issues. In that time, you will hear offhand comments about the royal side of things. What some members of the family would do if they were in our place. How they are still upset about father's decision to strip the rest of the family of their royalty status. Stupid remarks that a typical snobby rich person would make. Sometimes they would argue. Depends on their mood." He adds, "But since it's the first time they are meeting you and this is your pre-engagement party, expect them to ask a lot of condescending questions about you and to receive unwarranted ire on their part in the form of subtle hostility."

Brittany gulps.

"By the time dessert rolls around, everyone is either drunk or stuffed with food. They would forget all about what transpired. It is at this time that they would corner you and try to incur your favor or your wrath. Santana, Kurt, and I usually hide away at this point." He grins.

"I-I see." Brittany forces a smile. "And if that's the case, who should I try to avoid if I want to keep my sanity?"

"Glad you asked." He smiles in an all-knowing way. He looks around then points to the middle-aged woman with pearls who Brittany has been noticing to give her dirty looks every so often. In tow with her are two just as bored teenagers, a boy and a girl, that looks about the same age as Diego.

"Your Aunt and cousins?"

" _Tia_ Ingrid, _Papa_ 's older sister. The overeager slightly bitter one, as Santana puts it. Those are the fraternal twins, Juan and Juanita." He states. "They are, well, let's just say, they're not fond of our existence and our standing in life."

Brittany follows his line of sight. She watches how the exasperated twins come around their mother's beck and call. And how Aunt Ingrid seems to be so excited to let every person know within feet from her that the twins are at the top of their class in university and are off to Cabo for a quick getaway next week in their private yacht or that she would be wearing off-white cream to the wedding. Off-white cream, not white, as she so emphasizes. Huh. Charming people.

"There's a few others too." He motions one at a time to some of his relatives with Brittany closely listening in. "The rest are simply snobbish and think they're better than everyone else. Typical family stuff, you know?" He adds then takes a sip of the gazpacho.

"What are we serving up on this fine day?" Santana utters as she returns to her seat next to Brittany.

"Gossips. Scandals. Secrets. Some telenovela material you got here, San." The blonde says, smirking.

"Ah, I see my brother has given you the roundabout of things. Should be fun."

Diego winks at his sister then busies himself with another shot glass of gazpacho.

Santana grins then leans over to give Brittany a kiss. "How are you, sweetheart? Anybody tried to give you a hard time?"

"Not yet. No one has even tried to talk to me. Although I feel like I'm about to be killed by the Children of the Corn." Brittany winks, subtly motioning to some of Santana's distant relatives from the far end of the table. Santana follows her gaze and immediately chuckles with the blonde upon realizing that they are staring back at them like owls on high alert.

The King and Queen enter the dining room. Their entrance prompts everyone to take to their feet as a sign of respect. It is only when they take their seats that everyone else follows as well.

" _Buenas noches a todos. Estoy muy feliz de que nos reunamos por el compromiso de Santana y Brittany_." The King motions to the couple with a big grin. Everyone directs all their attention to them as well, albeit unsmiling at that, except for Diego and Kurt, who is standing by the side lines now. Santana glances at Brittany with a smile, reaching for her hand.

Brittany barely understand what the King said. The words still loading on their English translation if they were even in her vocabulary in the first place. The only saving cue she has right now are physical gestures and the power of nodding and smiling as if she had any idea what the hell is going on right now. As much as it's nice for them to try to speak in English, she can't expect them to give her any special treatment. She knows she has to be the one to adjust to them.

The King continues to address the whole room, slipping in a few English words here and there, but loses Brittany completely a few sentences in. Santana takes constant peeks at her. Worry apparent on the brunette's face. Brittany knows that as much as her fiancée would like to translate everything to her, she can't. Even among family, they still have to adhere to a protocol. This time out of necessity to avoid judgments and arguments.

The King then raises his wine. The others follow suit. Santana smiles at her, motioning to the blonde's wine glass. She mirrors everyone else's gestures, their eyes upon her like a vulture waiting for its prey to have a moment of weakness for it to pounce. Once the servers come in with their food and the conversations starts and a few questions are thrown their way, everything becomes a blur for Brittany.

She can understand basic Spanish. She can speak basic Spanish. But as she's come to know these past few weeks, Spanish people speak at a rapid pace and with a distinct way of pronouncing words. That when and if Brittany tries her hand on it, she would not only stick out like a sore thumb but would probably sound like someone who's about to have a stroke with all her butchering of the pronunciations.

Perhaps she feels overwhelmed because it's the first time she's ever met her significant other's relatives. Or the fact that she's engaged to be married in a few weeks. Or there's so many things and processions and appointments and events and a whole bunch of other stuff on their road to the marriage ceremony because the family she will be inducted into is probably the most famous one right now. Or it could be because she doesn't understand a thing about what they're saying at all even though she was semi-confident in her abilities to converse in Spanish with her everyday lessons with her tutor and the King and Diego during those gardening adventures the three of them have on the daily.

Or perhaps it's how Santana's relatives' scrutinizing glances make her feel, without any words, that she is neither welcome nor have any right to be a part of their family. Or maybe it's _Tia_ Ingrid's invasive questions one after the other about the future and the wedding and the public that Brittany realizes she doesn't have the answers at all because if she's being quite frank, she doesn't know jack about anything. Because she is only told the bare minimum. She doesn't have the privilege to be included in the conversation because she's practically a decoration for the Spanish family to model as entertainment for the masses. She can't even choose what she's going to wear to her own wedding lest the flowers on the tabletops served at reception. She doesn't even know ninety five percent of the people attending her wedding.

All these thoughts switches something inside her like a lightbulb. The shortness of breath and rapid heart beating comes into light again. Recently, she's been having more of these. Once or twice a day in the past week, at least. It's usually triggered by public situations or intense public attention caused by the media. Or quite frankly, anything to do with the duties of royal life. She's never had them before she got to Spain. She has yet to tell anyone about it. In fact, she tries her best to hide it when she feels it coming up again.

It's becoming worse and worse as the days go by. Nowadays, a dizzy spell accompanies it. Feeling faint and weak. Having chills. Looking as white as paper.

And the only way she can manage to calm down is to get some air.

" _P-Permiso_." She manages to croak out in the middle of the conversation between Santana and _Tia_ Ingrid about something she lost track a long time ago.

Brittany is about to get up from her seat when Juanita of the fraternal twins speaks up, " _Estamos en el medio de la cena_ , Brittany. Where are you going?" The name said with a hint of spite and a biting tone.

A few of the relatives turn their attention to her. The others cease and wait for her reaction. And she remembers that, basic protocol dictates that she cannot get up in the middle of dinner. Any and all breaks or excuse to go somewhere shall be done after dinner and before tea. This is her first formal dinner with the Royal family of Spain. Her first meeting with their relatives. And here she is, making the best first impression on her future in-laws.

Brittany tries to meet their gazes, her insides practically shaking out of fear, as if she's losing all control of her body. She starts to feel numbness in her hands. Her throat going dry. From the corner of her eye, she notices the Queen looking up to see what's happening.

Brittany look beside her to see Santana with a riled up expression directed at the twins and is about to open her mouth when someone approaches them from behind.

" _Permiso, por favor, Señorita Brittany._ " Kurt utters, giving her a look she can't make out. "There is a call for you. A very important one."

Brittany pauses for a moment or two then tries to play along. "Can't it wait, Kurt?"

" _No._ _Lo siento_. Duchess Catherine Middleton would like to have a brief clarification about the charity event you will all be attending next month in your state visit to England. The Queen of England wants to know all about it, I believe. It is official business and will not take longer than a minute."

Brittany stares at Kurt then Santana and Diego out of disbelief. There were a lot of things to unpack in Kurt's sentence.

However, with the mention of official business, everyone goes back to minding their own business. As does the Queen but not before giving Brittany a discerning look. The twins look away while still maintaining their spite. Or envy, probably. They proceed to attempt to hoard Santana's attention again much against the brunette's ire.

"O-Oh. Okay then." Brittany gets up from her seat, excusing herself from the table. Her world spinning a bit, she manages to hold tight to her seat for some balance. Something Kurt and Diego took notice of.

As soon as Brittany exits the dining room, she searches for a vacant room or space, turning towards the corner of the hall. She ignores a few of the staff and security scattered in the corridor and enters a waiting room slash recreation room of sorts for guests. She shuts the doors before anyone could even protest or react to what is happening.

"I-I c-can't breathe- I-I can't-" She croaks out to herself.

Vision blurring, Heart racing. Intense tightening in her chest as if the air in her lungs are knocked out of her. Hands and fingers shaking uncontrollably. Cold sweats. Tears pooling at the back of her eyes. Throat drying up. She heads towards the grand piano located by the side of the room and goes behind it to open a window, fumbling at it, to the cold breeze in. She takes a seat on the floor, lowering her head down and embracing her knees. She tries her best to retrieve her sanity, closing her eyes and focusing on herself only. Inhale from the nose and exhale through the mouth.

Slowly, she regains her breathing, her heart returning to its normal pace. She sees her hand recover its control from the violent shaking.

"Britt?"

Brittany jolts. She looks up to see Kurt staring back at her with horror and worry in his eyes. He kneels down and leans closer to her.

"Are you alri- What's wrong?"

Brittany can only look at him. She shakes her head. "I-I don't know, Kurt. It's probably just nothing-"

"It's not nothing. You looked like you were about to faint back there. Look at you, you're shaking!" He says, eyebrows scrunching together.

"I-It's nothing. I've been having these lately. T-They go away after a while."

"What?" His eyes widen. "Britt, this is serious." He moves to get up, "I think we should call the medic-"

"No!" Brittany holds him back. "P-Please don't. The last thing I want is another commotion over me. E-Everyone is here and I don't want to disappoint anyone."

"Britt, this could be serious. You could be sick. Maybe we should let Santana know what's going on and she could-"

"Kurt," She whispers, her voice pleading. "please don't. I'll tell her myself. But not tonight. Not like this." She shakes her head and glances down. "Please, _please_ , don't."

Kurt studies her for a moment with what could only be pity in his eyes. Brittany holds back on crying for some reason unknown to her. She thinks back to what's waiting for her back in the dining area. The expectations. The façade she has to portray. The life she has to lead. She compartmentalizes it all. A coping mechanism she has since learned to practice ever since she arrived here. She keeps it all in inside her.

Kurt nods, not saying anything else. He squeezes her hand and moves to comfort her with an embrace. They stay in this position for a minute until Brittany recoups enough normalcy in her being again.

"W-We need to go. They're probably wondering where I am." She utters, proceeding to get up along with Kurt. "I need to freshen up a bit first."

He nods with some reluctance. He excuses himself and leaves the room, leaving Brittany all alone again.

She walks over to the nearby mirror stand, gazing at her reflection and fixing herself up. To everyone else, she looks happy and healthy in her thousand-dollar dress, impeccable make-up, and perfectly done hair. Regal, even. But she knows that behind her blue eyes hides an ugly truth that she may not be alright at all. That she is not happy. That perhaps, she doesn't belong here and she's only forcing herself into this life.

She holds on to the stand with both hands when that ill feeling surges up once again. She looks up at her reflection and sees a woman trying her best to make it seem that she has it altogether but in reality, is broken and unraveled inside by the pressures of royal life. Of her present and future life.

She takes deep breaths, consoling herself with good thoughts only. Good memories. Santana. She's alright, she repeats to herself over and over again. She's alright. She forces a smile at herself in the mirror and somehow it makes everything seem okay. She has to be better. She has to do it for Santana. She has to try, at least.

With one last deep breath, Brittany exits the room. The previous staff and guard lurking in the corridors have disappeared. There is only Pablo, waiting outside and holding a bottle of water out for her.

"O-Oh. _Gracias_ , Pablo." She says, taking it and gulping the whole thing down in record time, feeling better instantly. Pablo doesn't even look at her nor react, preferring to bow his down. She considers it his way of respecting her privacy in such a weak moment.

He wordlessly takes the empty bottle from her and motions the way back to the dining area. This time, breaking into a split-second smallest of smiles a human being can produce at her. Their first personal interaction so far since she's arrived.

Brittany smiles and nods at him. She goes ahead and walks the corner back to the dining area with Pablo trailing behind. She finds the staff and guards outside the room, none of them making eye contact with her. Some bow their heads at her presence. She enters the dining room again and finds that she's only been gone a few minutes. Everyone still preoccupied with their respective discussions and unaffected by her presence.

She makes eye contact with the King as she goes back to her seat, receiving an acknowledging nod and smile from him, then goes back to his conversation with one of Santana's _Tias_. The Queen only stares at her, a subtle squinting of the eyes as if she's figuring Brittany out, then engages herself in a dialogue with one of the relatives as well.

"Hi." Santana greets her as she takes her seat again. An uneasy expression on her face. "What was that all about? Everything all right?"

"O-Oh. Yeah, of course." Brittany nods a bit too much. "Last minute stuff for next week, you know how it is." She forces a smile to mirror Santana's and tries to return to her dinner like nothing happened.

One of Santana's cousins engage them in a conversation and she tries to follow as best as she can. She looks around the room and notices how everyone is relaxed and chipper to be around family. From beside her, she catches Diego's inquisitive stare at her but decides not to press her for it.

"Britt?"

Brittany looks to her left to meet Santana's questioning gaze. She can't put it exactly. But in the time she has known her fiancée, there's something brewing at the back of Santana's mind with the look she's sporting. A question or a thought she would like to address to the blonde.

Brittany only looks at Santana and waits for her to say something.

Santana observes her with worry and reaches for her hand, then says, "Are you okay?"

Brittany ceases to breathe altogether for what must be a full minute but really, just a few seconds. She looks behind Santana and sees Kurt watching her. Without having to say anything to each other, they know that they have each other's back. She knows Kurt wouldn't break her trust about what happened earlier. She also promised him that she'd tell Santana herself.

"Britt?" Santana calls out again. This time the brunette faces her with a stern expression on her face. "Is something wrong? Please tell me."

Brittany stares back into the brunette's eyes. She squeezes Santana's hand and shakes her head, smiling at her.

"I'm okay, San." She whispers, tasting the lie through her teeth. "I'm okay."

* * *

Santana was trained to be observant from a very young age.

Her parents taught Diego and her that being aware of their surroundings and the people around them at all times should be as normal as breathing for them. That taking note of the change in people's behaviors will grant them an insight into their mindsets and thoughts. That reading the room or place they are in can give them the best approach into fitting in.

It's a skill she has mastered over the years with lots of practice. From gauging if her friends in boarding school and university were homophobes, being thankful that they are not and throwing some friendships down the drain when they turned out to be one. Seeing if something is off in her surroundings for safety purposes or if the people she was acquainted at a certain time are wolves in sheep's clothing. Being mindful if someone is being friendly or using her for their own agendas only. Assessing if Kurt was a psychopath and would kill her in her sleep when he moved in with her in the Manor.

It's never failed her and lately, she's observed a few things. New things about her fiancée.

Not too long ago, Brittany stood like she's always waiting for a fight to happen and at the same time, one could tell there's a grace in the way she presented herself. She used to walk with a haste for a foreboding of some kind but with a lightness in her step as a dancer does. Nowadays, as Santana has observed, there's barely any trace of that.

It could be the Princess lessons. Or the blonde adapting to her surroundings and being aware of how everyone has eyes on her at all times. Brittany could very well be mistaken as having done the job for a long time. Shoulders back, chin up. Posture impeccable. Gestures kept to a minimum. Moving and reacting as little as possible. Walking as if gliding on air. The way she stands, walks, and moves _almost_ exudes that of a royal already.

The Spanish lessons are definitely working their charm. Two months of incessant Spanish and frustrations shining through, Brittany is getting the hang of the language. They have even managed to get through a consecutive fifteen minute basic conversation of pure Spanish only. One that definitely impressed the hell out of everyone and makes Santana feel like a proud Mama Hen.

Brittany had a head-strong expression upon her at all times. A reflection of her plans and a definite strategy to do everything in her power to make her dreams come true. There's also the brave façade but that's probably for self-preservation in a dystopia like New York.

Now, that head-strong expression and brave façade have been replaced with a defeated manner and a distant gleam in her eye. As if she's accepted an unwanted fate. A longing for something else.

Santana has an inkling. Or perhaps a recurring fear nudging at the back of her mind slowly creeping in like a thief in the night. With all the commotion regarding their romance and the overwhelming attention every single little thing they make becoming a sensation or a viral article, she fears that it would drive Brittany away. Or perhaps it has already and she's just too scared to face the facts.

Santana trudges downstairs from her loft. To a land beyond imagination, a place where no woman except her or Brittany has gone before. It's barely seven in the morning but for the first time in a long while, she can't bring herself to sleep one wink more. She has a mission. A stern gaze in her eyes. An undertaking partnered with two steaming hot cups of their favorite Cuban coffee.

She doesn't bother knocking and goes right to business, starting with stirring the visible and snoring lump on the bed to consciousness. She lays down the cup of coffee on the nightstand. As what Kurt has always done to wake her up, she opens the curtains of his bedroom window unveiling a pristine view of the Palace grounds and their little courtyard. She takes the comforter off of her secretary in one swoop, hoping that Kurt wouldn't be naked under the covers. Or worse in one of those night gowns Wendy and Peter Pan find comfortable.

"Wakey wakey, Little Miss Sunshine!" Santana exclaims with a devilish grin.

Kurt shivers when the covers come off. His body violently jerking in protest to being suddenly awakened or at whatever Santana is saying before he can truly register them. He opens his eyes for a quick second to see the offender but immediately balks at the sight of Santana as if she's an apparition in his imagination.

"It's a new day, Hummel. Wake up and smell the flowers!" The brunette cries out a little too loud on purpose. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed and watches her secretary take it all in bit by bit.

"Go away. Still early. Need beauty sleep." He mumbles under his breath, hiding his head under the pillows.

"No! We have something to do!" Santana stands and removes the pillow from Kurt's head, hitting the secretary's torso with it much to her amusement of his objections.

"Fine, fine!" He huffs. He sits up and sports a look of utter distaste on his face as he looks back at the princess. "This better be good or I swear to baby Jesus, I will dye your hair blue the night before your wedding and disappear forever."

Santana chuckles then takes a deep breath. "I would like to find out why Brittany is always gone every morning and where she goes off to."

"You woke me up for this?" Kurt blinks, arching an eyebrow. He gets up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom but stops at the door to say, "Have you tried asking her?"

"Oh, bollocks. Why didn't I think of that?" She comments with a dry tone. "I tried several times but all she does is smile and say that she wakes up early to 'stroll around the grounds to smell the roses' and do some 'exercise'. We both know that's not true. She hates exercising. And- And she bought a golf cart? What is she going to do with a golf cart, Kurt?"

"That is sketchy." Kurt exclaims from the bathroom. Santana purses her lips, deep in thought. When Kurt comes out, he follows up with, "I don't get why it's a big deal though."

Santana squints her eyes at him, wordlessly asking him to elaborate.

"Well, you know, it's not as if she's doing something illegal. She's not going outside otherwise I'd be alerted. God forbid she's having an affair 'coz you're nauseatingly head over heels for each other. So, really, what's the big deal?"

Santana's eyebrows furrow. She bites her lip, grasping for straws to come up with a sufficient answer.

Kurt narrows his eyes at the brunette. "What exactly are you worried about?"

"N-Nothing. I'm concerned is all."

"Uh-huh." He scoffs. He walks over to his night stand to take his first sip of coffee for the day then settles on the couch adjacent to the bed. "Alright. I'm about two sips in so I'm ready to take in today's drama. Spill it." He reiterates, gesturing for her to take the floor.

Santana rolls her eyes and waves a hand in dismissal. "It's nothing."

"Is that why you woke me up this early and you're burning a hole on my carpet walking back and forth? Which you shouldn't, by the way. That's hella expensive and I'm going to charge you if you ruin it."

"I-I'm just- I don't know, Kurt. I feel as if something is not right."

"Santana," Kurt chortles. "even by your standards, that's a bit too paranoid. Maybe she's using the golf cart she bought to stroll around. There's acres of land to cover. Hell, it seems fun!"

"No, Kurt. Not that." She sighs. "What I meant was, there's something off with everything lately." She continues, "There's something different about her. She used to be so carefree and all of a sudden she's become a robot to all of the House's whims. She doesn't smile as much. She's afraid to be around other people or simply be in public. I sometimes catch her staring at nothing in particular with a faraway look on her face as if she'd rather be anywhere but here. It's as if she's not happy anymore."

Kurt glances down. Santana catches his sullen expression.

"Has she mentioned anything to you? Did something happen?"

He looks up and appears to be contemplating an idea. "She hasn't mentioned anything in particular."

Santana stares at him, trying to decode the statement.

Kurt continues, "Maybe she's just lonely. She hasn't seen her friends and family for what, almost two months now? Have you tried to talk to her about it?"

"I have but she's not really keen on talking about it. She says it's normal and nothing to stress about." She gives off a small but sad smile. "I don't know what to do, Kurt. I want to make her happy, I really do. But I have no idea how with the life we lead."

In that moment, Kurt puts two and two together. It's unlike for the princess to stress about something as small as Brittany disappearing every morning to go off somewhere. Underneath all that bravado is a fear lingering every so often.

"You're afraid that Brittany would leave you and run off back to New York in your sleep because this is all too much for her." He vocalizes the unspoken words.

Santana doesn't even bother to retort and instead nods in defeat.

"I don't care where she goes every morning, Kurt. She probably needs all the air she can gather to take all of this in. I just-" She takes a deep breath. "I fear the day she won't come back. Or I wake up to the sight of her gone knowing that I probably had the power to prevent it but I didn't do anything." She walks over to the window and looks out into the grounds. "I can't imagine my life without Brittany."

Kurt smiles to himself and walks over to where Santana is standing. "How about we do something about that? We could whip up some surprise for Britt to make her feel less lonely. You mentioned before that she liked the idea of a vacation. We could set an incognito weekend for just the two of you to Paris or Rome with the promise of only Pablo and I as back-up and security. We're going to England the day after tomorrow too. We could set something up then you guys could talk too."

Santana smiles her first genuine smile of the day. " _Perfecto._ Brittany would love that-"

A moving figure catches her attention from the corner of her eye. Upon turning, she sees a golf cart travelling to the other side of the grounds. In the driver's seat is none other than Brittany Susan Pierce, smiling and chatty in what looks to be a trademark gardening attire. Beside the blonde is a man wearing the same overalls, hands on his cane, sharing what seems to be an amusing story by the looks of him. In the backseat of the golf cart is a teenage boy holding a shovel and joining in their laughter.

Santana and Kurt watch the golf cart buzz from one point to another in silence, jaws slacked in a mix of confusion and surprise. The occupants of the compact vehicle not knowing they are being spectated in the few seconds that passed by.

"Are they going where I think they're going?" Kurt breaks the silence, still in disbelief as they keep track of the vehicle as far as their view can see.

"I think they are headed for the greenhouse." Santana fills in. "Father hasn't been there for a while because he can't walk that far-"

They look at each other at the same time when the realization hits. Even with all the abundance of resources at her disposal, Brittany still wouldn't dare touch it. And the first thing she bought with her salary in this job, a hefty purchase the blonde didn't even think twice of even with her frugal nature, wasn't even for herself.

"Will you kindly reimburse Brittany for what she spent on that-" Santana says, eyes still on the far away golf cart.

"Done." Kurt utters, tinkering away on his phone. "In a colorful way of words, she really was 'waking up to smell the roses'. Your lesbian really is into shrubbery, I gotta hand it to her." He adds, laughing.

"Shut up. I hate you."

* * *

Brittany has always wanted to go to England ever since she was a kid. She was always fascinated with the culture, the landmarks, the history, and of course, the accents.

Ever since they arrived in London two days ago, she's barely able to wrap her mind around everything. The fact that she's here with Santana as guests of the Royal family of England is mind-blowing. _The_ goddamn Queen herself invited her. If she's being honest, she sometimes still can't believe that this is her reality.

So far, being here is an out of body experience in itself. She's met the Queen, Prince Philip, Prince Charles, and basically everyone in the family. And they have all been so welcoming to her and Santana. In fact, having that luncheon or dinner or whatever it is they call it, last night with them was an even more homey experience than that with Santana's relatives.

Don't get her started on the overwhelming attention they have all been getting from the media ever since they arrived. It's been intense. And she means, _crazy_ intense at that. Santana was right in warning her that media coverage in Spain is nothing on what they have here in England. Kurt was underselling it when he said that their being with William, Kate, Harry, and Meghan would be like the Destiny's Child's and Spice Girls' reunion converge into one with the media attention. She wouldn't be able to describe it without tapping into every single curse word she knows.

Everyone has been so nice. They have all been so accepting and happy for them. As if her and Santana's engagement is like any other royal engagement. And she's thankful for that. She imagined William and Harry as preppy, formal men who wouldn't break character but on the contrary, they're typical _blokes_ who like to joke around with her and Santana. Kate and Meghan have been wonderful to her. She cannot stress that enough. Brittany finds comfort in the fact that these women were commoners before they became part of the family, giving her hope that it somehow gets better. The fact that Meghan is an American commoner just like her is a comforting idea, something she and the former actress lightly touched upon.

And now, after what must have been forever out in public for the past few days, she finds solace in the hotel suite where she and Santana are staying. For the first time since they have arrived in England, she's truly alone. Santana is somewhere out with Kurt on 'official business' and she's left to her own devices with nothing to do.

Santana has been encouraging her to be more of herself lately. That was apparent during their first meeting with William and the others. She thought she'd be intimidated or she'd make a fool out of herself in their presence but she found herself calm and comfortable around such personalities. In fact, she felt like an unfazed rockstar during the whole thing.

She hasn't had an 'attack' or 'breakdown', she's not sure what to call it, for the past couple of days now. She almost had one upon landing at Heathrow when they got into the limo to take them to Buckingham Palace. Somehow it was averted by an internal dialogue of not blowing it in front of the Queen of England. Brittany could just imagine with how old the monarch is that she could probably kill her if she were to have an episode in front of everyone.

Kurt is still the only person to know about her ongoing problems but they haven't discussed since the family dinner. Diego has shown a certain curiosity to her dilemma in their morning garden adventures with the King but continues not to pry. Even with all the time that has passed, she has yet to tell Santana about it. She has yet to find the right moment.

She turns on the wide screen television in the living room, scouring for something entertaining to watch. Instead, she finds one channel after another reporting about their royal visit and all the ongoing media coverage of them. It's still surreal to her to watch herself on the news do normal people stuff like meeting other people who just happen to be famous celebrities or on other instances, for others to be somehow intimidated by her presence as if she's somehow more important than them. She watches herself pose with the English royals upon arriving at Buckingham Palace. And this is where she notices it for the first time.

To other spectators, she seems happy. Contented. But if you look closely enough, you will see the sadness. How her smile doesn't reach her eyes.

Brittany turns the television off. Having had enough of the self-pity. She walks towards the windows, careful not to open too much, as she was directed to not even come close to them. She watches the people below her come and go in the streets. The slight drizzle and rain enveloping London. A few quaint restaurants here and there. A busker playing his instrument for the passersby. A dancer doing an interpretative dance to his music. How the landmarks changes lights every so often. How freeing it must be to go out and be not recognized for a moment, for even a slight hope that no one will mind. How nice it must be to be a tourist in London and to actually be one and roam around with unrelenting freedom.

As much as she'd want to be with Santana the entire time they would be here, she knew from the start that there would be times that her fiancée will have to excuse herself because of business. That she would be left alone to do as she pleases. And Brittany understands that.

The blonde takes a deep breath. She walks over to the front door and surmises that maybe it's not a bad idea to take a walk outside, or at the most, the hotel restaurant to get food since she's starving. A kebab or grilled cheese sandwich sounds heavenly right now. She doesn't remember the last time she had either because of the diet she's been put into. She gathers her coat and opens the door only to be met by security guarding each side of it. Upon further inspection, countless men in suits stand guard throughout the whole penthouse floor of the hotel - and she's sure the next two floors below too - rented by the House of Bourbon.

She thinks twice for a second, taking in the silence and all their serious faces. She barely gets outside the door when she hears someone approaching. She turns and sees Pablo behind her, eyes in front. Lately, they have been building up a wordless rapport. She's come to know that even if Pablo's not the speaking type, he's certainly human enough to allow Brittany to have a bit of freedom to act like one. She would actually consider them to be friends now.

"I'm getting food downstairs. Incognito. I'm thinking burgers." She blurts out to him in a whisper as if it's their little secret.

Pablo sneaks a look at her, turning the thought over on his mind. He's about to nod when a staff member comes out of one of the hotel rooms in a harried looking state.

" _Señora_ Brittany." The woman says. As she approaches, Brittany recognizes her as the woman who delivered the paintings back in Bushwick.

"I am Lope Verano. We've met before-"

"Yes, I remember. In Bushwick." Brittany cuts her off, smiling.

" _A-Ah, si_." Lope utters, trying to return the smile amidst her nervousness. "Mr. Hummel left me in charge until he returns with Her Royal Highness. May I assist you with something?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you. I was just getting something to eat for dinner-"

"Of course. We shall have room service delivered to your suite at once." She motions to one of the guards who leaves almost immediately.

"Oh, it's okay. I can just go down and grab something quick with Pablo-"

Lope cuts her off again, this time with a softer and sympathizing tone. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We cannot allow you to leave your suite."

This catches her off-guard. She can't- What?

"There might be people downstairs who-"

The realization dawns on Brittany. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the floor.

Now it's her turn to cut Lope off. "I get it." She nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. She turns around and catches Pablo's slight glance at her as she enters the suite again, the saddening solitude.

She removes her coat and shakes off the heavy feeling. She should get used to this by now. The restriction. The imprisonment as it seems. The loneliness. She thought before that this thing only happens in the movies. But then again, her life story is straight out of one.

Brittany's phone rings. The sound removes her from her thoughts. She walks over to it and sees that it's her mother video calling her from Savannah. Somehow, and some way, the sinking feeling manages to disappear in an instant. She takes a seat on the sofa and answers the call.

"Hello? Mom?" She says to a dark screen at first in her confusion.

Within seconds, her Mother's face appears. Blue eyes and blonde hair just like hers. The familiarity of home comforting her like she's never known.

" _Brittany! My baby! How are you? We miss you._ " Susan Pierce greets with the widest of smiles." _I thought you would be too busy to answer._ "

"I'm doing well, Mom. How is everything? I miss all of you." She answers, mirroring the smile.

" _Everything is well here too_. _You look so beautiful, sweetheart. Where is Santana?"_

"She's somewhere with Kurt. They have a meeting with the Prime Minister of England, I think."

" _Oh, I see. I did remember seeing on the news that you are both in London._ " Susan utters in all her excitement. _"Tell me, how is it like meeting Prince William? Is he and Prince Harry as handsome in person?"_

Brittany chuckles, relaxing against her seat. "They are, Mom. Meghan and Kate are amazing too. They're all so down-to-earth."

Susan grins. The camera's focus moves around a bit and Brittany can't help but notice a few people moving around in scrubs and coats and what looks like a waiting area of sorts.

"Hey, Mom. Where are you?" Brittany utters, sitting up straight.

" _Oh! I forgot that's why I called you in the first place!_ " Susan exclaims, all excited. " _Liddy just gave birth half an hour ago, sweetie! Your brother Chris has a son now!"_

Brittany's eyebrows shoot up. She covers her mouth with a hand then grins as wide as she can. "Oh my God! Mom, that's wonderful news!"

" _It is! Everyone is so happy! We wish you were here to see this, Brittany."_

And Brittany does too. Long before Spain, she had already saved and planned to go home to Savannah when her sister-in-law gives birth, to be with her family on such a joyous occasion. And as much as it makes her happy to see her family on the other end of the line, celebrating her nephew's birth and saying their hellos and how are yous to her, having her first look at the newborn, she can't help but feel sad that she had to experience it all like this instead of in person. With how her life has turned out, she's certain she will miss all of the important things to come in the next few years as well.

" _We can't wait to see you soon, honey. We miss you so much. We wish you were here. Send our love to Santana from all of us, okay?"_ Robert Pierce speaks up before handing back the phone to his wife.

"Yes, Dad. I'll see you soon." Brittany nods, forcing a smile.

" _Brittany, what's wrong, honey?"_ Susan says as soon as the camera focuses on her again.

Brittany blinks, getting caught off-guard. It is only when she touches her cheeks does she realize that she's crying already.

"Y-Yeah, Mom. I'm just happy that Liddy's given birth and everyone's there. Tears of joy." She grins, wiping tears from her face.

Susan Pierce stares at her for a good moment. That motherly gaze that she knows all too well as her mother knowing that something's up. " _Are you okay, Brittany? They're not giving you a hard time, are they?"_

"No, Mom. I'm being treated like a Princess here, don't worry." She forces a chuckle then looks at her Mom's face on the screen. The sadness enveloping her entire being. "I'm okay, Mom. I'm okay." She utters before saying their goodbyes.

Brittany takes a long, deep breath when the line is cut. The silence of the room taking over again. She tries to gather her emotions as best as she can. That ill feeling of 'attack' nowhere to be found. Instead, she feels a surge of overwhelming feeling to get away, to get the heaviest thing she could find and throw it across the room.

A knock on the door disturbs her thoughts.

"Come in." She exclaims to no one in particular.

A staff member and guard enters with room service for her. She thanks them and just as they shut the door on their way out, a text comes in on her phone. It's from Tina. She opens it.

A picture of Mercedes, Sugar, and Tina greets her. They look to be in Ken's bar celebrating with numerous drinks and food on their table. The caption at the bottom reads:

 _Mercedes just got offered a job at Columbia Records right after graduation. I got cast in a Broadway revival for Once on this Island, rehearsals start in two months. Sugar bought a new car and allegedly, Michael B. Jordan checked her out yesterday. Wish you were here to celebrate with us._

 _We miss you B. See you soon. Xoxo._

With all that's happened in the past hour, all that's occurred in the past month, all that she's been made to feel since she arrived in Spain. She cannot help but feel them all at the same time. She tries hard to compartmentalize, to feel numb, to stash her emotions away in a box and throw it across the River Thames. But she can't. It's all too much now. She can't pretend anymore.

For the first time since she's been thrust into this life, Brittany cries. She cries hard enough that she feels her body shaking, giving in to the weakness. She cries out the sadness, the hardship of being subjected to such a public life that she didn't ask for, that she never wanted. She cries out all her frustrations. Her dreams of being a dancer in New York, one which she has been training all her life, that will never, _ever_ happen anymore because of this life. She cries out that she will never have a normal life again, will never live out the life she set out to build. She cries out the loneliness, that no matter how many people surround her, how many friends she has, they would never understand how it feels like to be her, to be in her shoes. She cries out the pain that she will never be the same Brittany Pierce from New York who reveled in the mediocrity or struggles of her life with her friends and family, that even if she tried, she will never have that in Spain with the new family she has that will never accept her completely nor acknowledge her as a part of them.

And it was all for love. All of these sacrifices because _she_ chose love.

She wants to go home. She wants to leave this life behind right here, right this moment. She wants to just give it all up.

But she's too late now. She cannot. Not anymore. Not because of Santana. Not for anyone or anything. She's simply too far gone.

She cries it all out until she felt she had nothing more to give. She surrenders herself to her feelings for once in her solitude.

Then she tells herself amidst the tears with less conviction each and every time it is spoken, "You're okay, Britt. You're okay."

* * *

 **I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to the next chapter. It's lighter, that's for sure. I think it's my favorite chapter yet of this fic. Hoping to post it before the month ends.**

 **Thanks for not giving up on this story. Give me a shout out on tumblr at kpgleek13**


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